Champion
by RedHeadedFlame
Summary: Peeta has only had one goal in his life: to win Wimbledon. But an accident alters his life drastically and he needs help from the people he loves to find himself again.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Happy New Year! Thought I would start the new year off with a new story. I'm a big tennis fan and that was what inspired me to write this story. Let me know what you think.**

* * *

 _Chapter 1_

"40-15," the umpire calls.

The ball girl scuttles after the tennis ball that has just been called out and I give a little fist pump as I turn to whip up the home crowd. Many of them get to their feet and whoop their encouragement. My opponent, the German and world number one player, Cato Mueller, shakes his head in frustration as I get two match points. I turn back with a huge smile as I ask the ball girl for another ball. The crowd continue to cheer as the ball girl bounces the ball to me and I take a deep breath as I catch the ball with my racket. The whole crowd then goes deadly silent as I get ready to serve.

Just one more point. One more point is all I need to win this match and beat Cato for the first time in eight months. One more point and I'll be champion of The Fever Tree Queens Tennis Tournament for the very first time. One more point and I'll be the form player leading into the Wimbledon tennis tournament that starts in just over a week's time. I like the sound of that.

I push every other thought out my head as I bounce the ball and look up at Cato on the other side of the net. He crouches, ready to receive the ball and there is only one serve I'm going to use match point up. It's worked for me consistently this afternoon. With another deep breath I throw the ball high in the air and jump to hit it at the optimum point. As soon as my racket meets the ball I know it's a good serve. I slice the ball out wide and it lands perfectly in the corner of the service box. Cato lurches to return it and manages to get the ball back in play. But I've already stretched him and I hit the ball back to the opposite side of the court. He rushes to retrieve it and he even gets his racket on the ball but he can't generate enough power and the ball crashes into the net.

The crowd react before I do and jump to their feet as they begin cheering. The umpire calls game, set and match and I jump as I punch my fist in the air.

Relief is the first thing I feel. I've finally managed to beat my biggest rival a week before Wimbledon. The British press have followed my every move this week and debated if I have the mental strength to conquer the world number one player. I've proved those doubters wrong today.

The pure joy follows soon after and I can't stop smiling as they crowd continue their long applause. I turn around to them, ripping off my sweatbands and throwing them into the crowd. There are further whoops of excitement as people scrabble to catch my sweaty cast offs but I keep smiling as I clap and thank the crowd.

Cato has come to the net and waits for me patiently there. He hangs his head dejectedly and looks a lot more tired than I do but he still says congratulations when I jog my way over to him. He offers me his hand and we share a brief hug as Cato pats me on the back.

"Congratulations. I couldn't believe some of the balls you got back today. You out played me," he says.

I smile as we pull back.

"Thanks. It was one of those good days but you put up a fight," I reply.

Cato smiles as he shakes his head.

"You're being kind. We both know I wasn't in the match today," he says.

I laugh as we turn to walk back to our seats. Cato turns to me with a grin.

"See you in Wimbledon final in three weeks," he says.

I laugh again and slap him on the shoulder before turning and seeing the most important people in my life. My whole family are here to watch me to today and stand clapping louder than anyone. I bound over to them and Mum reaches out eagerly for me. She pulls me in close and holds me tight.

"I don't think there is a prouder mum in the country right now," she says.

I smile as I squeeze her back.

"You have one very happy and relieved son right now," I reply. "Sorry I'm getting my sweat all over your dress."

Mum laughs as we pull apart and then strokes a sweaty curl back fondly.

"The sweat is worth it to share this moment with you," she says.

I give her another smile before swooping down to place a kiss on her cheek and then Dad pats me on the back.

"What a match, son. I keep telling everyone that you get your tennis genes form me," he says with a massive grin.

"Obviously. I don't think I'll ever achieve as big as your win at Waverly Tennis club under 12s competition though," I reply.

Dad chuckles but my two big brothers, Bran and Rye are pulling me into them.

"Fuck yes, Baby Bro! That was awesome! I'm going to be using your win to get myself fucking laid for the next couple of months," Rye exclaims.

"Careful, Rye. We don't want the BBC to apologise for your bad language again," I say raising an eyebrow.

My brother gets excited easily and often utters profanities when this happens. Unfortunately the BBC have caught this on camera a few times while he has been supporting me and the commentators have had to quickly offer their apologies for any bad language that has been heard before the watershed.

My more sensible brother, Bran, shakes his head.

"You still owe me a drink. I said that Peeta would win in two sets today. You thought Cato would take him to three," Bran says.

Rye shakes his head.

"Peeta's buying all the drinks tonight. He's just won £700, 000!" he says.

I roll my eyes and pat them both on the back.

"No alcohol for me tonight. My body is a temple until Wimbledon is over," I say.

Rye gives me a grin.

"And that's why I never achieved my tennis destiny like you. I love a party too much," he says. He then slaps me on the shoulder. "Though no matter what I say. I'm proud of you."

That's about as sentimental as Rye gets so I thank him and turn to Bran.

"Seriously, Peeta. Congratulations. But I think there is someone beside us who wants to talk to you," Bran says.

I give him a massive grin before squeezing his shoulder in thanks. I then turn to my favourite person. My girlfriend, Katniss, stands beaming beside my brothers. She's let her dark hair down today and it flows in soft waves down her back. She has freckles across her nose from having watched me play tennis all week in the sun and Effie even managed to convince her to wear a dress.

I'll know she'll hate me for it but there is only one thing I want to do when she looks this beautiful. I swoop down, gather her head between my hands and kiss her in front of nine thousand people. Katniss gasps a little in surprise but then opens her mouth to kiss me back. The crowd roar louder than they have all afternoon and some people wolf whistle. Katniss only lets me kiss her for about five seconds before she gently pushes on my chest and then buries her head in my shoulder.

"You promised you wouldn't," she mumbles.

I grin broadly and use my finger to tip her chin up.

"Then you shouldn't have looked so beautiful," I reply.

Katniss blushes and wraps her arms around my middle. I place a kiss on top of her head as I give her squeeze.

"I love you," I say.

Katniss tips her head back up to look at me.

"I love you too. You deserve this today," she says.

I smile back at her and every nerve in my body urges me to bend down to kiss her again. But Katniss can be feisty when she wants to be and I wouldn't put it past her to cause me bodily harm if I engaged in more PDA. And a week out from Wimbledon I want my body in top condition.

The tournament referee is tapping on my shoulder anyway, encouraging me to get into place for the trophy presentation. Katniss lets go of me and tips her head towards the trophy.

"You better go. Though it's a pretty big trophy. You better not drop it and embarrass yourself on national TV," she teases.

I laugh as I take a step back.

"If I can carry you after you've had six tequilas, I think I can handle it," I reply with a grin.

Katniss scowls at me and I give her another smile before dashing off to get the trophy. She's not joking about the size of it. I think it's the biggest one on tour being both tall and wide. I can't take my eyes off it as they go through all the other presentations before they get to me.

Cato finally steps forward to receive his runners up plate and my eyes dart over to look at my family and Katniss. My eyes lock onto Katniss' again and she mouths that she's proud of me. I mouth that I love her back.

The polite applause ends for Cato and then they are announcing my name.

"And now the winner of the Fever Tree Championships, Britain's very own Peeta Mellark!" a man calls.

The crowd gets loud again as I step forward and wave at them before smiling at the co-founder of Fever Tree tonic. I shake his hand and he tells me congratulations before passing the massive trophy to me. I grin broadly as I grip tightly onto its two handles and then turn to lift it up for the crowd.

I can hear my brothers jumping up and down and going crazy behind me and when I turn around Katniss is looking at me with so much pride and joy that it makes my heart melt.

The cheering eventually subsides and Cato steps up to be interviewed by Caesar Flickerman, a former British tennis player that now leads the BBC's tennis team.

"Cato, commiserations. You came in here as defending champion but it just wasn't your day today," he says.

"No. Peeta played great today. We've played many great matches over the last couple of years but I just couldn't disrupt his rhythm today. He deserved to win," he replies.

The crowd roar their approval at that and I hug the massive trophy close to my chest. I can't shake the smile that's on my face.

"I know you two are good friends off the court. Does that make it harder or easier to play each other?" Caesar asks.

"You never like to beat your friends but I think we both enjoy the rivalry. The two of us are always competing in the locker room as well. Peeta may have won today but I beat him in ping pong on Thursday," Cato says with a grin.

A ripple of laughter goes through the crowd and Cato turns to catch my eye. We share a grin as we remember the epic ping pong tussle we had earlier in the week before he turns back to Caesar.

"Peeta is honestly one of the nicest guys on the tour. He's kind and considerate to everyone, even when they have just beat him and he's made so many great improvements to his game in the last year. I hope to play against him in the Wimbledon final in three weeks' time," he finishes.

The crowd cheer again and Cato steps back to give them a wave. He nods his head at me as we trade places and I thank him for his kind words.

I still hold the trophy close to my chest and Caesar comments on this when I get to him.

"Congratulations, Peeta. You don't look like you're going to let go of that trophy any time soon," he says.

"You'll have to pry it off me. Though I'm not sure it's going to fit in the boot of my car," I joke.

The crowd laugh as I grin broadly. Caesar waits for it to die down before speaking again.

"You played exceptionally well today. We all know that you haven't beaten Cato in eight months. What was the difference today?" he asks.

"Eight months, thirteen days and twenty hours, but who's counting? Maybe Cato had a stomach bug today," I reply.

More laughter from the crowd. I joke about it but it has caused me a lot of headaches these last eight months. Cato has beaten me in nearly every major match that I have lost including both the final of the Australian Open and semi-finals at the French Open this year. It was only my coach and family that stopped me from doubting my game.

"No, in all honesty I've been working really hard on my game, particularly my second serve. I served really well in this match and didn't give him many opportunities on my second serve so I think that's what made the difference today," I say.

Caesar nods his head.

"We all watched you run over to your family after you won. How much does their support mean to you?" he asks.

"It's everything. I wouldn't be here without them. They all sacrificed so much for me to get to this point. My brothers had to give up football training because it clashed with my tennis lessons and mum couldn't drive us to two different places at once. My parents re-mortgaged their house so I could train in Spain when I was fourteen. I feel like being Lindsey Lohan in _Means Girls_ and snapping this trophy so I can share it with them," I say.

I turn to my family and mum places her hand over her chest, looking genuinely touched by what I have just said. I smile back at them but then my eyes slide along to Katniss. My grin gets wider as I turn back to Caesar.

"Though I think my girlfriend may force me to sleep on the sofa tonight. I think I embarrassed her by kissing her in public. But I'm not going to waste a chance to kiss the girl I love," I add.

A large portion of the crowd awe and Katniss blushes again as she flits her eyes away embarrassed.

"So I assume there will be big celebrations in the Mellark camp tonight then?" Caesar asks.

I smile and shake my head.

"It's only a week to Wimbledon, Caesar. I want to be in the best possible shape for it. Today is just the start. I fully expect to be holding a smaller gold trophy in three weeks' time," I reply.

The crowd roar in agreement.

"And besides, _Love Island_ in on tonight and I need to find out if Wes and Laura have broken up yet," I add with a smile.

The crowd laugh as I mention the trashy reality TV show. Caesar chuckles too.

"Then I won't keep you much longer. We all want to see you in that Wimbledon final too! Congratulations and we'll see you at Wimbledon!" he announces.

I thank him before turning back to crowd and waving again. There is one last big cheer before I'm dragged away for other press commitments.

I do a few more on court interviews and make sure I thank the umpire and tournament referee before I head into the locker room. My family, along with all my couching team, are waiting for me and my brothers spray bottles of champagne over my head. I laugh as I shake the bubbly liquid out my hair.

"I still have the press conference to do after this," I say.

Rye grins at me.

"And I hope you'd shower before it you dirty bastard," he replies.

"Language, Rye. I'm really starting to worry the public think I have brought my son up wrong," Mum says.

Bran wraps his arm around Mum's shoulder to give her a reassuring squeeze.

"Don't worry. Two of your sons turned out well. That's a 66.6% success rate," he says.

Mum chuckles and then gives him a kiss on the cheek. My coach, Haymitch steps forward sipping a bottle of beer.

"It all seems like a waste of perfectly good alcohol to me," he says. "And well done, kid. That may be the best you've played yet."

"But I'm only going to get better," I reply.

Haymitch nods his head, impressed by my response and tips his beer towards me. My game wasn't perfect today. I still lost too many points when I came to the net and let Cato hit behind me a few too many times. I'll be back on the courts tomorrow with Haymitch coaching me to tighten up the loose ends of my game.

He's been my coach for the last three years and my ranking has risen from number seventy-sixth in the world to number three. He played a bit of professional tennis in the past but he had none of the big weapons to hurt opponents. His tennis brain though is second to none and the tactics he's helped me come up with have been a big reason for my improved form.

"That's what I like to hear. Winning Queens is no guarantee that you'll do well at Wimbledon. We've got a lot of work to do this week," he says.

"Oh for goodness shake, Haymitch, let the boy have some time to enjoy this. We all know that you'll be celebrating with a bottle of whiskey," my publicist, Effie says.

Haymitch grunts at her.

"Don't get your wig in a twist. I'm making sure he wins Wimbledon, not just organising his next OK magazine deal," he replies.

"Publicity is key with sportsmen. It's how he gets sponsors and can afford to pay you. I'm making sure that everyone knows how great he is. Not just on the tennis court but off it. He's going to need the whole country behind him if he has a chance of beating Cato at Wimbledon," Effie retorts.

As Effie talks, Haymitch tilts his head to the side and mimics her. Effie huffs when she sees this.

"You honestly act like a child sometimes, Haymitch!" she exclaims.

I step between them to defuse the situation. I brought them both onto my team at around the same time and they have a very love/hate relationship. They both know how to wind each other up but that doesn't stop them flirting over a few drinks at the end of a long night.

I put an arm round each of them and smile.

"I want to thank you both for all the work you do with me. Effie, I'm going to give you that Fever Tree hamper the sponsors gave me as I know you love a gin and tonic. And Haymitch, I owe you a steak this week," I say.

Effie reaches up to touch my cheek.

"You're such a gentleman, Peeta Mellark. I like to think of you as a friend and not just a client," she says.

I give her a little squeeze.

"Of course we're friends, Effie," I reply.

Haymitch rolls his eyes and ducks out from under my arm.

"Things are getting too sentimental. We need to get you prepped for the press conference," he says.

Effie nods her head and then claps her hands as she steps away.

"Oh but we need a locker room shot before we go. Your Instagram is waiting to be updated," she says.

"Yeah. I want to capture this moment. Haymitch, you grumpy moron, you're getting in this one too," I say.

Haymitch groans but doesn't put up too much of a fuss as Effie ushers him and the rest of my team into position. I'm kept in the middle holding the huge trophy and told to keep smiling. She snaps a few pictures of me with the team, family and then with just Katniss.

"Katniss try one looking lovingly up at Peeta. And why don't you put both arms around his middle," Effie says.

"The trophy kind of gets in the way of doing that," Katniss replies.

"Oh, I suppose. How about you each hold a handle of the trophy," Effie suggests. "That's it. Perfect!"

My cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling too much and Katniss gives me a reassuring squeeze.

"She must be almost done now," Katniss says.

I smile and nod my head before squeezing Katniss back and then Effie turns back to speak to us.

"I just need one with Peeta now. And you should take your top off. Your number of likes always go up with topless shots," she says.

Katniss rolls her eyes.

"I hate how we've become judged on how may likes we get on Instagram," she says.

I shrug my shoulder.

"It's just a bit of fun. And you know how competitive I get," I say with a grin.

Katniss rolls her eyes again but Effie is already ushering her out the way. I whip off my sweaty t-shirt and pose with the trophy for the last of Effie's photos. I know she will spend the next couple of hours scrolling through the photos she took of me to find the best ones for Instagram. I just want to share the moment with my fans.

Effie finally finishes and puts the camera away. She then looks up at everyone.

"I'll forward some photos to everyone with social media. Remember to show me anything before you post. It's important that you all show how proud you are of Peeta but I don't want anything lewd," she looks at Rye as she says this. "or anything that is too similar. This is a big moment and we have to share it in the right way!"

There are nods of heads but Katniss just sighs from beside me. I put my arm around her waist and place a kiss on her temple.

"You don't have to post anything if you don't want to. I know how proud you are of me. I don't need an Instagram post to tell me," I say.

Katniss sighs again as she snuggles closer to me.

"It's just that I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. I post something about you and there are lots of nice comments but there is always at least one idiot saying that I'm not pretty enough for you or using you to get famous. And if I don't post I get a load of angry messages asking why I'm not showing you support or the press start speculating we broke up. I hate it," she says.

I turn her around so that I can see her fully.

"It sucks. I know. What can I do to make it better?" I ask.

Katniss smiles fondly up at me as she reaches up to stroke my hair back.

"It's not your fault. Maybe I just need to grow a thicker skin. But before I post to the world, I want you to know I'm so happy for what you achieved today. Great things are coming your way and I can't wait to be by your side while you achieve them," she says.

I rest my forehead against hers and use my thumb to sweep across her cheek.

"You're amazing, Katniss Everdeen. I'm lucky to have you," I say.

She smiles back at me and I bend down to give her a lingering kiss. She squeezes me tighter as I open my mouth to deepen it and for once I don't hear the cat calls from my brothers.

* * *

I'm exhausted once all my media commitments are done but my parents insist on taking everyone out for a celebratory meal. I manage to perk up a little after some food but my mind is already thinking about the things I want to focus on in training tomorrow. My body doesn't feel too sore and I'm eager to keep improving.

Mum scolds Haymitch and I for looking at a couple of videos of the game today on his phone but I don't really have time to celebrate. Wimbledon starts in less than a week and I want as few distractions as possible.

Effie uploads the photos onto Instagram and it makes me smile when I see all the messages of support come through. Some of the other players on tour have offered me congratulations, including Cato. I'm sure he's already working on his game for Wimbledon and I need to do the same thing too.

The best thing about competing in Queens and Wimbledon is that I get to stay in my own house while I compete and not in a random hotel. It's such a relief to be able to come back to my own bed with Katniss in the house we share in Kensington.

I grab her wrist and pull her back to me as she tries to walk off into our kitchen after we have entered. She bumps into my chest and I slide my hands up to hold her head tenderly in my hands.

"This is my favourite thing about winning. Celebrating with you," I say.

Katniss smiles as she steps on her toes and brushes her nose against mine.

"Have you stopped thinking about the match yet? Because I've got other plans for you tonight," she replies.

"I promise not to think about tennis and tactics for the next hour," I say.

Katniss quirks an eyebrow at me.

"Only an hour?" she says.

I smile as I bring my head closer to hers.

"I'll be blaming you then if I'm too tired to practise tomorrow," I reply.

"Haymitch hates me anyway. I might as well piss him off some more," Katniss says.

She then leans into kiss me with her hands already make their way underneath the waistband of my trousers.

* * *

Katniss wakes before me the next day. She works as a researcher for a London radio station and has to be at work for when the morning breakfast show starts. Working in radio is certainly not her dream job. She has aspirations to become a song writer but it takes years for someone to build a reputation as a good song writer. I may think her songs are awesome but until she has the right connections I'm going to be the only one hearing them. Working at the radio station helps her network with people in the music industry and it was only last month that the music producer, Plutarch Heavensbee, asked Katniss to send him some of the stuff she has written.

When I do finally get out of bed I find a plate of fruit left for me from Katniss. I smile when I see that she has arranged the fruit into the shape of the Wimbledon trophy with a message underneath that reads:

 _1 week to go!_

I get out my phone, snapping a quick picture of it and uploading it to my Instagram.

 _Excited for next week to start! #wimbledon#breakfastofchampions_

The likes and comments start coming in immediately and I smile when I see the messages of support

 _ellie_hemmingway245: That looks delicious! Good luck!_

 _bobbylovestennis: Let's hoping you are holding the real thing in 3 weeks!_

 _black+gold56: I'm rooting for you! We need a British winner!_

The messages keep coming and I then send a quick thank you to Katniss. Effie then messages me to tell me her delight over my recent post. It's a good start to the day

I pluck a strawberry off the plate and chew it while I turn on the TV. BBC breakfast flashes on screen and I chuckle when I see they are talking about me.

" _Are we allowed to get excited about Peeta Mellark yet? The bookies made him favourite for Wimbledon today," the female presenter says._

" _I believe in him. I don't normally follow tennis but he was phenomenal in that match yesterday," the male presenter replies._

" _It's been over eighty years since we've had a British male winner at Wimbledon and I really think this could be the year. He's twenty-three now. It's his fifth Wimbledon so he understands the pressures that comes with being a British player here and he just beat Cato Mueller. That will have been a huge psychological boost for him," the sports expert adds._

They carry on talking about me but I decide it's best not to listen for too long. There is a lot of expectation with the British Press and I've learned the hard way to block most of it out.

I finish the breakfast my nutritionist left me and then head out to meet my physio for some more post match recovery stuff. I may have won Queens yesterday but it's going to be harder to win Wimbledon. I've got a pretty good rhythm at the moment and don't want to disrupt it. I'm not going to change my schedule because I won a match yesterday. My victory yesterday will seem like a distant memory by the end of the day.

There is a paparazzi standing outside my house when I hop in my car and he clicks away rapidly as I drive off. It's like this every year at the end of June and beginning of July. For two or three weeks of the year the British public become obsessed with tennis. Everyone suddenly has an opinion on who will win and the top British player is put under intense scrutiny. As I drive to the physio, I pass massive billboards with my face on it advertising the tournament. I'm on the front and back page of every newspaper and tourist shops sell masks of my face. It can be a little disconcerting and many great British players have never been able to handle the pressure.

Everyone is pretty happy with me as I go to meet the physio. Apart from the usual aches and pains my body is in good condition. Haymitch has reviewed my match from yesterday and praises the tactics I used and Effie is delighted by the number of people phoning about sponsorship or interviews. I don't think the vibe in my camp has ever been higher.

I spend a couple hours reviewing my match with Cato and do some light hitting in the afternoon but I manage to get home before Katniss gets back and sit going over some of the notes I made with Haymitch today. Everything went my way yesterday but my backhand in particular will need to be more accurate on the days things are not going so well.

As soon as Katniss enters I know she had a bad day. The door slams shuts loudly and she storms through to the kitchen. I instantly jump up and follow her through where she has slumped down at the breakfast bar. I frown in concern and place my hand on her back as I comfort her.

"Hey. What happened?" I ask.

Katniss scowls as she shakes her head.

"I got chased home by paparazzi today. There was a whole crowd of them waiting outside the radio station. I couldn't even go out to get a coffee," she replies.

I sigh as I rub circles on her back.

"I'm sorry. They didn't hurt you, did they?" I ask.

Katniss shakes her head.

"No. But one tried to grab my arse to get a reaction out of me. It took all my will power to not thump him," she says.

I tense when I hear her say this. It's been the same ever since Katniss and I started dating four and a half years ago. The British press hound her every time Wimbledon comes around and some will go to great lengths to try and get a better picture or story. Some shout abuse, others try to feel her up. It's definitely the worst part of playing tennis.

I turn the bar stool around so that Katniss faces me. I take her head in my hands and sweep a thumb across her cheek.

"That's not okay he did that to you. Did you recognise him? I can get Effie to go after him," I say.

"It was the one with curly hair and horn-rimmed glasses. He's shouted abuse at me before," she replies.

I nod my head.

"I'll get Effie on the case. You don't deserve to be treated like that," I say.

Katniss smiles gratefully at me and places a kiss on my wrist.

"Thank you," she replies. "It's the price I have to pay for being with you."

I shake my head fiercely and bring my head closer to her.

"You shouldn't have to pay any price. I'm going to make sure you're treated right," I say.

Katniss smiles and leans up closer to me.

"You're a good man, Peeta Mellark. I love you," she says.

I smile back as I lean down for a kiss. I wish she didn't have to go through this.

* * *

I contact Effie about the photographer and she quickly identifies him. She then encourages me to post something on Instagram outing all the people that harass my girlfriend to get a good photo. Most of the comments are supportive and condemn the paparazzi's actions but there are still some people that think Katniss is asking for it and I don't know if I have made it any better.

I rack my brains to try and think of a way to make it up to Katniss. I've been training so much this week and had a lot of press commitments so I have barely seen her. Things are only going to get crazier once Wimbledon starts and this might be the last chance we have to do something together.

The perfect solution finally comes to me on Friday after practise and I get Effie to help me set up the plan. When I get back from training I greet Katniss with a big smile.

"Get changed. We're going out tonight," I say.

Katniss looks up from her song book and raises her eyebrow.

"We're going out three days before Wimbledon starts?" she asks.

I lower my face closer to hers.

"Yes, we're going out. And it's a surprise," I reply.

Katniss rolls her eyes but does move to get up.

"It has been two months since your last surprise, I suppose. I guess I'm due one," she says.

I grin and place a quick kiss on her lips before we both turn to go upstairs. I wouldn't normally go out so close to a big tournament and I'm not sure I'll be able to fully enjoy it but this is about Katniss. She deserves something good too.

* * *

We get a taxi to the venue and the driver spends the whole journey asking me about Wimbledon and detailing what he thinks Cato's weaknesses are. He completely ignores Katniss and I wish I'd called for my driver instead. Katniss is a little fed up when he finally drops us off but her eyes widen in surprise when we step outside. She then turns to me with a look of awe.

"Isn't this where The Mockingjays are playing tonight?" she asks.

I nod my head with a grin. The first thing Katniss and I bonded over was our love of music and The Mockingjays are Katniss' favourite band. They announced this gig at the small music venue months ago but we were both in Australia for the Australian Open and didn't get any tickets.

"I got Effie to phone their agent and managed to get us VIP access. I didn't want you to miss out," I reply.

Katniss smiles broadly up at me and after a quick check that there are no paparazzi, steps on her toes and kisses me.

"I can't believe you did this. You've thought about nothing other than tennis all week," she says.

I wrap my arms around her middle and tip my head towards the entrance.

"Don't doubt that I don't think about you too," I say. "Come one. Let's get inside before anyone sees us."

Katniss smiles as she nods her head in agreement and we walk hand in hand into the venue.

The band greet us with big smiles when we enter and the bassist offers us a beer. I shake my head to decline but Katniss accepts.

"Thank you so much for getting us tickets," Katniss says. "I honestly listen to your last album all the time. I love the soulful tone of The Hanging Tree."

"I'm glad you like it. I often feel that The Hanging Tree is our most under rated song," the lead singer replies.

Katniss nods her head and I can't help but smile as she goes into deep conversation with a couple of the band members. This is when she is in her element and her eyes sparkle more than they have all week.

The drummer sidles up to me and gives me a smile.

"All set for Wimbledon?" he asks.

"I'm feeling confident about it," I reply. "I'm just glad I get one last night to relax before it all starts."

The drummer nods his head and my eyes find Katniss again. She's laughing at something the bassist said and I'm just glad she is having a good time.

The band eventually have to get ready to go onto stage and Katniss comes over to me with a big grin. She reaches up to kiss me before linking her arm through mine.

"Thank you so much for this. This is when you being famous pays off," she says.

"There had to be some perks," I reply.

Katniss laughs lightly and then leads me to the VIP area by the stage. She presses her back against my chest and I circle my arms around her as the band come out to play. We jump and dance with each passing song and for a couple of hours I don't think about tennis or Wimbledon.

My mind is firmly back in tennis mode though the next morning and I let Katniss sleep as I get up to practise at the Wimbledon courts. I place a kiss on her bare shoulder before I leave and my mind is already playing over the tactics Haymitch and I discussed as soon as we found out who my first round opponent was yesterday. But I'm disturbed from these thoughts by my phone ringing.

I answer it using my hands free set and am pleased to hear my friend, Madge's, voice ring out.

"It's taken you long enough to congratulate me on my Queens win," I tease.

"Haha. I'm sorry. I've been away in Mykonos. I'm sure you've had plenty other people telling you how great you are," she replies.

Madge and I have known each other since we were five and went to the same primary school in Surrey. She's actually the reason I met Katniss. Katniss and Madge were in the same halls at Bristol University and I became captivated by the dark haired girl with beautiful grey eyes that appeared in all of Madge's facebook photos. As soon as I was back in England I rang up Madge and asked her to introduce me to her attractive friend. I still remember hearing Katniss sing as we drunkenly made our way back home from the night club and swear I had never heard a sound like it. I've been a goner ever since.

"I think I may be more popular than the Queen and David Beckham in the UK at the moment," I say.

Madge laughs.

"A certain topless Instagram post this week may have helped with that. Though I have to say I think you have let yourself go. I think Rye may have a better six pack than you right now," she says.

"Please tell me you haven't slept with him again recently?" I say.

My brother and Madge have a very casual on again/off again relationship. They both just seem to use each other for sex when they haven't gotten any in a while and I've never seen the point of it.

"Oh God no! That's old news at the moment. Though I did see him out last night," she replies.

I roll my eyes as I approach a junction. I can already see where this is going.

"If I win Wimbledon, he'll use that as an excuse to sleep with you," I say.

Madge laughs again.

"Well you better not win it then!" she jokes.

I laugh too as I cross the junction but something then suddenly slams into my side causing me to be thrown in the car. I bang my head on the steering wheel as my car screeches off to the side. There's another bang and then the whole world goes black.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who responded to the last chapter. It's great to know that people are enjoying the set up. We're going to see a very different version of Peeta in the next few chapters as he struggles to come to terms with the aftermath of the accident. This is going to e very hard and long journey.**

* * *

 _Chapter 2_

There is a massive stabbing pain in my leg and it feels like my toes are on fire. I groan as my eyes flutter open and then blink rapidly as they adjust to the bright light. Everything is a bit foggy and I struggle to focus on anything in my surroundings. The room just seems so white and I'm vaguely aware of voices in the background. But the pain in my leg seems to intensify and I let out a garbled scream.

Suddenly a cool hand reaches out to smooth down my curls and comfort me.

"Oh thank God! You're awake. I've been desperate to see those blue eyes for hours," a voice says.

I try to turn to face the owner of the voice but it's too painful to move. I can only twist my head to the side and I catch a glimpse of my mother. And she looks terrible. She's pale apart from her red rimmed eyes that hint she has been crying. Her normally immaculate blonde hair is in complete disarray as if she has been repeatedly running her hands through it.

"Mum," I croak. "It hurts. My leg feels like it's on fire."

Mum chokes back a snob and then sniffs loudly. She takes a shaky breath as she leans forward to place a kiss on my forehead.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," she replies. "I'll get you more pain medication. I'll get the doctor."

She looks towards the door before turning to face a person across the bed.

"I'll be as quick as I can. Will you be alright by yourself?" she asks.

I want to turn to face the other person in the room but the effort to do so seems too much. Instead I just hear Katniss' voice reply.

"We'll be okay," she replies.

Mum nods her head before looking back towards me pained. She reaches out to smooth down my curls again.

"I'll be back before you know it," she says.

She then pushes her chair back quickly and dashes out the room to find the doctor.

I've figured out that I'm in some hospital somewhere but I'm unsure of exactly what happened to me. There are machines beeping all around me and I seem to have numerous tubes coming out of me. I vaguely remember being in the car. I think I was talking to someone on the phone but anything else is a blank.

Now Mum is gone I want to see Katniss. I need to see her reassuring and kind smile. But as I turn to move a shooting pain just below my knee occurs. It's worse than the fiery sensation from before and that's when I know that there is something seriously wrong with my leg. Because I can't feel anything below that shooting pain just below my knee.

I yell out in pain and Katniss jumps forward and gently places her hands on my chest to stop me moving.

"The doctors said it was best that you don't move. Not until your leg has finished draining," she says.

Instant fear grips me at her words and makes me squirm more. I desperately try to wriggle my toes in an effort to feel something in my left leg. But there is still nothing. Katniss sees the fear in my face and grasps onto my hand tightly.

"There's something wrong with my leg, Katniss. I had stabbing pains when I woke up but now I can't feel anything at all," I say, barely concealing the panic in my voice.

Katniss looks down and then brings my hand up to place a kiss on my knuckles.

"Please don't hate me for telling you this," she replies.

My heart thumps loudly as she can barely look me in the eye. My breath starts to get ragged and I squirm some more but that just causes even more pain. Katniss gives my hand a big squeeze before she gains the courage to look at me again.

"You were in a car accident. Your leg got trapped and there was nothing they could do to save it once you got to the hospital," she starts.

My heart suddenly slows down rapidly as I fear where this is leading. My grip on Katniss' hand gets even tighter. She looks sorrowful as she takes a deep breath.

"They had to amputate it, Peeta. I'm so sorry," she says.

I drop her hand like a hot potato as my whole world seems to drop out from beneath me.

* * *

Mum eventually comes back with the doctor firing off questions about how I'm going to survive as an amputee. The next hour involves me lying next to the doctor as he tells me all about my "life changing injury". He tells me that my leg was trapped in the car for just under an hour and by all accounts sounds like it was pretty mangled when they finally got it out. It wasn't salvageable he said and they had to amputate just below the knee. Apparently this is a good thing because it will be easier to fit and move with prosthetic once my stump has healed enough to get one.

They then up my dose of pain medication so that the stabbing pains lessen but I'm advised not to move for the next twenty-four hours. There are tubes coming out of my leg so they can drain any excess fluid that builds up there. According to the doctor my body realises that there is an injury to my leg so it is sending it extra blood and fluids. The biggest danger for me now is for this to get infected.

They want to start my rehab in a couple of days, making sure I can move myself to a wheelchair and onto a toilet before sending me home in what they hope will be two weeks.

I don't ask many questions, though Mum does, because all I can focus on are the words "life changing". How could I let this happen to me? Wimbledon starts in two days. I was the favourite to win the men's title. All my years of hard work and sacrifice were finally supposed to pay off and I was going to achieve the goal I've had since I was eight. But that's all gone because I didn't stop when crossing a junction.

I'm glad that Katniss is quiet while the doctor speaks. She only keeps a tight hold of my hand and squeezes it every so often to comfort me. She doesn't tell me everything is going to be okay and seems to be holding it together more than Mum. Mum keeps bursting into tears when the doctors talks about prosthetic legs and how certain things will change in my life. My mother's tears aren't helpful and end up irritating me by the end of he conversation. They just emphasis how my life has been ruined.

Mum looks exhausted when the doctor leaves and I stare blankly up at the ceiling. I don't dare look down at me leg and see the missing part of me. Mum reaches out to stroke my hair back but I don't react to her touch.

"How's the pain? The doctor said they can give you more if it gets too much," she says.

"Oh it's great, Mum. I just feel stabbing pains in a leg I don't have anymore," I reply bitterly.

"The doctor said phantom pains are common. We're all here to help you get through this," Katniss says.

"The doctor also said there is no cure for phantom pains so I don't really know how you guys are going to help me through it," I say.

"We'll get you anything you need. The doctor said you're going to need as many people as possible supporting you," Mum replies.

"I don't want people to see me like this," I say.

"But everyone is so worried about you. They just want to know you are okay," Mum replies.

"But I'm not okay!" I snap. "I've lost my fucking leg. And it's my life that is now ruined."

Mum recoils in shock and looks like she is close to tears.

"I know you are upset. We all are. But please don't say your life is ruined," she says.

She then gets up abruptly and leaves the room sniffing back tears. Katniss reaches out to grasp hold of my hand.

"Your mum's right. I know this is not how you imagined your life but I'm going to make sure your life is still good," she says.

I don't respond as I continue my staring of the ceiling. How can anything be good in my future now?

* * *

In the next twenty-four hours I become duped up on painkillers and eventually manage to get up into a sitting position. I then receive a parade of visitors all telling me how sorry they are and that they believe I'm strong enough to get through it. But I can see it in all their eyes that they don't know how to handle me anymore. My brothers barely acknowledge the fact after the initial condolences. Rye babbles on about some girl he met on Tinder while Bran talks about how his golf handicap has come down. Though half way through the story he suddenly realises that I can't walk a golf course for the foreseeable future and suddenly goes quiet, mumbling apologies for being insensitive.

Dad talks only about rehab facilities he has googled online and told me that he's going to find me the best possible one. He tells me I'll be walking in no time. Haymitch comes in drinking a larger bottle of whiskey than normal and Effie arrives with him detailing all the supportive messages I have been getting from social media. Many of my fellow professional tennis colleagues have taken to twitter and Instagram to wish me a speedy recovery. Effie starts reading them out but I tell her to stop quite quickly. None of them really care about me. Their heads are filled with winning their first match on either Monday or Tuesday. And the messages from fans are even worse. It just reminds me how I am letting them down by being unable to play.

But the worst encounter is with Madge. When she arrives I'm taken back to the moment in the car. I'm reminded of how I was joking with her as the car slammed into my side. My whole life ruined because of that one moment.

My friend possibly looks worse than I do. She wears no make-up and dark bags rest beneath her eyes. She looks like she could burst into tears at any moment. When she sees me, she flings her arms around me but the force causes a jolt to my stump and I yelp at the shooting pain there.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry," she sniffs.

"You're not the first person that's done that," I reply.

Madge looks apologetic as she takes a seat.

"I've never been so scared in my life, Peeta. One minute we are talking and then I hear an almighty crash and the phone cuts off," she says.

"I was an idiot that didn't stop at the junction," I reply.

"But I must have been distracting you. I've been blaming myself ever since. I'm so sorry," she says.

There was a moment when I blamed Madge too. If she hadn't phoned me than I would have more than likely have stopped at the junction and still have my leg. I would be on the Wimbledon practice courts right now. I'd be gearing up for the biggest two weeks of my life.

But I'm no longer angry at Madge. I'm more angry at myself. I didn't have to answer her call. I should have known better and stopped at the junction. I'm the one to blame.

"It's not your fault," I say.

I have nothing else to say to her.

* * *

Mum and Katniss hardly leave my side while I am in hospital but I'm pretty unresponsive to their questions and dad manages to convince them both to go home to have at least a shower and something to eat.

But left alone I can only think of how everything has changed. I'm not going to win Wimbledon. Right now I can't even go to the toilet by myself. Everything that involves movement is going to be harder. People will stare at me if I wear a pair of shorts. I won't be able to dance with Katniss at our wedding. If she even sticks around now that I'm only half a person.

I even make the mistake of turning on the TV. Unfortunately when I turn it on it flickers to the BBC where they are doing a preview of Wimbledon.

" _Of course the biggest disappointment is that our very own Peeta Mellark has had to withdraw as a result of the car accident he was involved in on Friday," the female presenter says._

" _It will be devastating for the young man. He was on such fine form at Queens and was full of confidence after beating Cato Mueller," the male presenter says._

 _The dark haired female nods her head._

" _Yes. And Cato Mueller has been one of many players that have tweeted messages of support to Peeta Mellark," she says._

An image of Cato's Instagram account then comes on screen and the female presenter reads the message out.

 _So sad to hear about PeetaMellark. He is one of the few people on tour I call a genuine friend. Our locker room challenges were as entertaining as our one court battles. I was so sure we would meet again in the final in two weeks time. He is a phenomenal player and the tournament will be less without him. I wish him a speedy recovery. #getwellsoon_

" _No further details have been released yet about Peeta's condition. We heard that he had a successful surgery on Friday afternoon and is now in recovery. We have no idea what the surgery was for or how serious his injuries are," the male presenter states._

" _Hopefully it's nothing too serious and we'll see him back on the tennis court soon," the female presenter states breezily._

If I could move I would find something to pick up and throw at the TV. It's clearly not been announced that my leg has been amputated but I hate their positivity. I'll never step out onto a tennis court again. I won't ever get to play Cato for the Wimbledon trophy. I'm just going to become another tennis player that everyone has forgotten in ten years time.

I angrily shut the TV off, unable to stand anymore talk about Wimbledon now that I'm not going to be there.

I sit staring at the wall opposite, contemplating what my life is going to be like now. I just can't get over the overwhelming feeling of loss. If feels like I have lost a person. Because I've lost part of myself and I can never be the same person again.

I've still avoided looking at my stump. The phantom pains make it feel like my leg is still there and I know as soon as I look I'll be faced with the reality of only having one leg. But it's been two days now. They want to get me into the wheelchair tomorrow. I have to look.

With a deep but shaky breath I slowly lift up the covers. I grip onto the edges tightly as I take several breaths to prepare myself. With every ounce of energy I have left I duck my head down and spy the space where my leg used to be.

It is heavily bandaged up with still a couple of tubes coming out of it. My hands begin to shake as my eyes sweep over my upper leg, down my knee and then below. My breathing becomes shorter and nausea begins to rise up as I see the empty space below my knee. It doesn't look right. A single tear drops down my cheek and I release the bed sheets quickly so that they fall and hide my deformed leg.

More tears slip down my cheeks as I think about everything I've lost and grief overtakes me. It's not just tennis that I'm losing. I feel incomplete and no one is going to treat me the same. I have friends on the tennis tour who aren't going to have the time to hang out with the guy with one leg. How long will Katniss stick around before she grows tired of just being my nurse? The thought of being intimate with her now that I'm missing a leg makes me feel sick. She won't look at me with the same hunger again.

I hear the door click open I turn just enough to catch a glimpse of Katniss. Her face is fresh from the shower and she has tied her wet hair into a braid. She takes one look at my tear strained face and dashes to my side. Her arms wrap around me and I can only sob into her clean t-shirt.

Huge wracking sobs come out of my mouth as I cling onto her desperately. I haven't cried since the surgery and every ounce of grief I have locked inside comes pouring out. I'm crying for the loss of my leg. I'm crying for the loss of my career. I'm crying over the potential loss of Katniss.

"Please don't leave me," I sob. "I've lost everything. I can't lose you too."

Katniss squeezes me tighter before pulling back and wiping my tears away with her thumb. She then places her hands on my neck and looks me straight in the eye. There's a steely determination in her stare that tells me she is not going to give up.

"I'm not going to leave you. I'm not going to do that," she replies passionately.

I shake and hang my head, not fully believing she would want to stick around with a cripple, but Katniss grabs my chin and forces me to look at her.

"Don't you dare look away from me, Peeta Mellark," she scolds. "I love you and a missing leg isn't going to stop that."

I sniff and relief at hearing those words begins to wash over me.

"We're a team, Peeta. I barely remember my life without you in it. I'm not going to let that change any time soon," she adds.

I sniff again as I manage a small smile. I lean my forehead against hers and put my hands on her waist.

"I love you too. But I'm scared," I reply.

Katniss runs her hands through my hair and places a kiss on my forehead.

"You're allowed to be scared. And you're also allowed to be sad and a little angry. But don't doubt that there are at least a dozen people who love you no matter what," she says.

I give Katniss a watery smile and she places a brief kiss on my lips. It's the first kiss we've shared since the surgery and I look for any signs of disgust now she is kissing a guy with one leg. But I find none. I still see the same fondness she had for me before, although it is mixed with a little bit of sadness.

I clutch Katniss close to me as she holds my head to her chest and soothingly strokes my hair. I want to keep clinging onto the only good thing left in my life.

* * *

The next day my whole family arrive with Katniss and a woman with a shaved head and vine tattoo down her neck. Mum still looks like she has been constantly crying but dad looks pleased with himself. He turns to the woman with the shaved head and gives her a big smile.

"Peeta, this is Cressida. She works at the top rehab centre for amputees and we thought it was best she meets you from the very start. We want as much continuity as possible so that we can get you up and about as quickly as possible," Dad says.

Cressida smiles kindly at me and she's probably the first person since the surgery that doesn't look at me with pity. Mum continues to sniffle in the corner while both Bran and Rye's eyes keep flitting to my stump. But Cressida doesn't look at me differently to anyone else in the room. It makes me like her.

"Hello, Peeta. Ready to get out of this bed today?" she asks with a smile.

I nod my head emphatically.

"Oh yeah. Yesterday I counted every tile on the ceiling. I'm eager to find out if there are more tiles in the corridor," I reply.

Cressida lets out a genuine laugh but the laughter from the rest of my family is a little awkward and forced. I hate that they can't laugh normally around me anymore.

Cressida then moves towards me and gestures to my sheet.

"May I?" she asks.

My mood drops as I hang my head ashamed. They finally removed the tubes from my stump this morning and I don't like looking at it. The thought of a stranger looking at it makes me feel sick. But if I ever want to get out of this bed I have to let her look.

Reluctantly I nod my head and I can almost feel everyone in the room holding their breath as Cressida lifts the sheet and takes a peek. She must only look for about three seconds before she puts the sheet back down and I let out a sigh of relief.

"Believe me when I say I have seen a lot of amputees and this looks like one of the clean ones. It's a good thing you haven't picked up an infection," she says.

I hang my head again. Nothing about this has felt good.

"The doctors have been so good here. We'll never be able to thank them enough for how they have helped Peeta," Mum says.

Cressida smiles and nods at my mum but I'm less thankful for the doctors. They were the ones that took my leg.

"I spoke with your doctor today and he agreed that we can start the rehab process. Today's goal is getting you into a wheelchair," Cressida replies.

My eyes darken slightly as I look over to the metal chair Cressida brought in with her. At the moment it's the only way I'm getting out of this room but the thought of having to rely on it doesn't appeal to me.

Cressida starts talking about how we're going to take everything one step at a time and that there is really no set timescale on how long it's going to take to get me on my feet and walking again. I resist telling her it doesn't really matter. There will never be a step that gets me playing tennis again.

The wheelchair is the brought over and my whole family crowd around me.

"Give me some space. I can't breathe with you all this close," I say a little harshly.

Bran and Rye step back with their hands raised apologetically while Mum hangs her head.

"We're sorry. We just don't want you to fall," she says.

"I think with only one leg there is a quite big chance of that happening," I say bitterly.

Mum hangs her head guiltily and Cressida gives me a reassuring smile.

"That's why I'm here. To make sure you fall as few as times as possible," she says.

I nod my head before turning to look at the wheelchair. It feels even more intimidating this close up.

"I'm going to help you get in it the first time and then we'll work up to you transferring yourself independently," Cressida says.

I gulp as I nod my head and keep my eyes on the wheelchair. Mum grips onto Dad's arm tightly and Katniss chews on her bottom lip as Cressida gets me into position. She helps turn me so that I sit on the edge of the bed but the shooting pains around my stump come straight away and I let out a little yell of pain before gritting my teeth. Mum buries her head in dad's shoulder as I continue to groan and Cressida helps me swing my leg and stump around. My good leg touches the floor but I freak out slightly at not feeling my other foot.

"I can't do this," I say, shaking my head.

I look down at my stump and start breathing heavily. It just looks and feel wrong.

"It's okay, Peeta. We can take as long as you need. But I know you want to get out of this room," Cressida says.

My breathing slows down again as I look Cressida in the eye. She's got a trustworthy face and I want to believe her. I grit my teeth again as I nod my head, ready for the next step.

Cressida smiles at me. She puts her arms around me and tells me to grip the bed. On her count of three she asks me to push off the bed as she lifts me. It takes several attempts before I feel ready to do this but eventually I push up to stand on one leg with Cressida supporting me. She then pivots me and deposits me into the nearby wheelchair. I land on it with a bit of a thump but Dad lets out a little cheer while Mum wipes back tears.

The world seems different at this vantage point. I don't like how everyone is staring down at me and so many other things seem out of reach. The phantom leg pains also seem to have gotten more intense. I don't feel like I've achieved anything.

Cressida is praising me though and Katniss comes over to place a kiss on my temple.

"You did it! You've now got the choice of the cafeteria or courtyard for your first outing. I would normally recommend any place with food but it's below average at best. Plus I spotted mockingjays in the courtyard," she says.

"The food must be bad if you're dissing it. You eat crisps in soup," I say, raising an eyebrow.

Katniss laughs, relieved that I'm making a joke but I feel like it took all my energy to do so.

Rye then grins at me.

"Look on the bright side, bro. You'll now get free parking. I'll be getting lifts off you all the time!" he declares.

I hang my head again. I know Rye is trying to use humour to defuse the situation but it's not what I need right now. It just reminds me that driving and walking are just two of the things that are going to be more difficult for me now. It just makes me feel even more useless.

Katniss turns to scowl at my brother.

"I think it's too soon for jokes like that," she says.

Rye looks apologetic.

"Sorry," he says. "But just for future reference, when can I start making jokes? I have a few pirate ones up my sleeve."

Everyone turns to scowl at him now.

"Just shut up, Rye. You're not helping," Bran says.

Rye hangs his head.

"Maybe I'll go and get everyone a coffee," he says.

"I think that is a good idea," Dad says.

Rye nods his head and then turns to look at me apologetically. He ducks out the room soon after.

Katniss places another kiss on my temple.

"Let's get you out of this room," she says.

I try to smile but hate how she has to push me out of here.

The courtyard is lovely and the mockingjays sing sweetly but there is a child walking with her elderly grandmother. The little girls wears pigtails and pink sparkly dress and she dances amongst the flowers. She sings a tune for the mockingjays but she stops abruptly when she dances in front of me and catches sight of my leg. Her eyes lock onto the empty space where my leg should be and her eyes widen in horror. I try to smile at her but she just keeps staring before eventually dashing off and wrapping her arms around her grandmother's leg.

"Granny! That man has no leg!" she declares.

The grandmother hushes her and tells her not to be stare but the damage is done. It doesn't matter what Katniss talks about after that. I feel like a monster and don't respond to any of my girlfriend's questions. Instead I sit thinking a hundred different bad thoughts. Katniss eventually gives up and I return to my hospital room pretty despondent.

Everyone senses that my mood hasn't improved and my brothers leave not long after I get back and Cressida has helped me into the bed again. Dad then leaves with Cressida as they begin discussing changes that will be needed to my house while I wait for my prosthetic.

Katniss and Mum try to distract me with cards and Boggle but my mind can't get away from the little girl that stared at me. It was the look of poor horror on her face that sticks with me. It just reminded how much of a freak I now am.

My mood is made even worse by knowing Wimbledon starts today and I almost yell at Haymitch to get out when he appears with Effie in the early evening. I've noticed that the two of them always come as a pair now and that Haymitch's hand always seems to linger on Effie's back.

"How's it going today?" Haymitch asks.

I've come to learn that this is the most popular question I get asked now. And I hate it. They all expect me to say that I'm doing okay and that I'll get through it but I feel far from fine.

I shrug my shoulder.

"The same as yesterday," I reply.

The pain medication is beginning to wear off again and Katniss sighs as she runs a thumb over my knuckles.

"He got in and out of the wheelchair today. I don't think he realises how big a deal that is," she says.

"That's amazing, Peeta! I know you're strong enough to get through this quickly!" Effie exclaims.

I bite my tongue to stop myself snapping at Effie. I know she is trying to be supportive but I want to scream every time I hear the phrase "You'll get through this". I don't want to get through this. I want my life to be normal again. That means playing tennis and then coming back to my girlfriend in the evenings.

I just nod my head in reply to Effie.

They wait for me to expand but I don't have the energy. The trip to the courtyard knackered me and polite small talk is the last thing I want.

After an awkward moment of silence Haymitch and Effie exchange a glance. Effie looks nervous but Haymitch encourages her to speak. He even gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. Effie smiles back at him and takes a deep breath as she turns to face me.

"I know you probably haven't thought about it but a lot of people are wondering how you are and I thought it might be nice to put a message out on social media, explaining what happened and letting everyone know you are okay," she says.

I let out a disbelieving laugh.

"You can't be serious, Effie. I don't want to Instagram this," I reply.

Effie at least looks guilty but it doesn't stop her arguing her point.

"There is so much speculation at the moment. We still haven't announced that they had to amputate your leg. This way you can control the message," she says. "People care about you, Peeta and just want to know you're doing well."

"But I'm not doing well, Effie. I've lost my fucking leg!" I snap.

Effie recoils due to the force of my words and Haymitch puts his hands on both her shoulders to comfort her.

"Don't be angry at her. Effie's getting calls every hour asking about you and has been up all night worrying how to bring this up to you in a sensitive way. She only wants what is best for you," Haymitch says.

"What's best for me is to have two fucking legs but I now have to live with the fact that I only have one. None of you understand what that's like. None of you have had all your dreams ripped away from you. I don't think it's unreasonable for me to not want to share that on Instagram," I reply.

Katniss rubs her hand up and down my arm to soothe me but I'm pissed off. I'm pissed off that I can't just hide from the world and deal with this on my own. But because of who I am the world demands to know everything about me. Even when I'm going through the worst time of my life.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up. I'll just handle it all and I won't use social media," Effie replies.

I give Effie a sharp nod but don't say anything in response. Katniss looks at me as if to get me to speak but I refuse. She then sighs before turning to Effie.

"Thanks for understanding, Effie. We can't hide the truth much longer," she says.

They then all start talking amongst themselves but I block them out. Nothing seems to be important now. What's the point in joining their conversation when it would only serve to make them think I'm doing better.

But I'm not better. I can't imagine a place where I will be.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter _3_

The photographers crowd and chase the car as it pulls into my street. They elbow and push each other out the way and their cameras bump against the windows as they struggle to get a picture. I pull the baseball cap down further over my eyes and slide down into my seat. Some begin tapping the window to get my attention and start calling out my name. But I don't want them to get a picture of the first time I've been home in two weeks. They don't deserve a picture of me and my new stump. They're fucking vultures.

Thankfully my townhouse comes with an underground garage and Dad is able to manoeuvre the car in there. The garage is able to shut the photographers out and I don't have to worry about photos of me struggling to get out of the car being splashed online in the next couple of hours.

Mum, Dad and Katniss all rush out the car once it is parked and battle to open the car door for me. Mum is the one who eventually opens it and Katniss passes me the crutches I have been using for the last few days. They all hover over me as they wait for me to make my attempt to get out the car.

I place them under my arm and grit my teeth as I prepare to push myself up. I'm still in a lot of pain medication but moving still fucking hurts. I groan as I push myself up and everyone sticks there hands out as if they are expecting me to fall. But I've practised this enough times with Cressida now that I fall less frequently.

They all let out a sigh of relief and I shake my head at them.

"You don't make this easy by looking at me like I'm going to break every time I stand up," I say.

Mum hangs her head and sniffs while Dad puts his arm around her waist.

"We're sorry. It just so hard to see you like this," Mum replies.

"Well it's fucking hard for me to be like this!" I snap.

Mum lets out a whimper and Dad begins rubbing soothing circles on her back. Katniss furrows her eyebrows and then steps forward to put a warm hand on my back.

"It's hard for everyone. But we all want the same thing. We want you to get better," she says.

I shake my head bitterly.

"But it's never going to get better. This is my reality now. We all need to learn to fucking live with it," I reply.

Katniss opens her mouth to say something else but I'm not in the mood. I hop on my crutches towards the lift to the house and jab the call button. I hear my family gather my belongings as I wait for the lift to arrive.

Katniss gets in the lift with me too and we're silent on the short journey to the ground floor. I should apologise for snapping at her but I'm still a little angry. Everyone talks about coming home being a positive thing but to me it just reminds me how much my life has changed.

Katniss lets me get out first and I'm grateful that she stays back and doesn't hover around me in case I fall. I hop into the hallway but stop almost immediately when I see the stairs. I can't take my eyes off them.

My house is three stories and has forty-six steps and right now I have never seen a more intimidating sight. Until they can fit me with a prosthetic I'm going to have to rely on using my crutches to get around and while a couple of steps is manageable enough the steps to the first floor are not. The stairs feel like Everest.

Katniss follows behind me but stops when she sees me staring at the stairs. She looks sympathetic as she comes over and gently touches my arm.

"You don't want to go upstairs. It's a mess. I have clothes lying everywhere and I spilled shampoo across the bathroom floor," she says.

I highly doubt it's a mess. We have a cleaner that comes in once a week and should have been in only yesterday but I appreciate her trying to make me feel better.

"So you're still not using that laundry basket I bought you," I reply.

I give Katniss a little smile and she smiles back. She then steps on her toes to kiss me. I wobble slightly on my crutches but Katniss just silently puts out her arm to steady me. We can hear Mum and Dad following us up from the garage and I take one last look at the stairs before turning away completely.

"I need to sit down. Standing is exhausting," I say.

Katniss nods her head in understanding and makes sure I get to the living room safely before asking me if I need anything. Mum and Dad appear and say they would love a cup of tea so Katniss dashes to make everyone a pot.

Dad starts talking straight away about the update on getting a prosthetic. I've still got bandages on my stump but once it's fully healed I can start the process of getting a prosthetic fitted. I stay mostly silent and nod my head in what I hope are the right places. But I'm too busy taking in my surroundings again.

I only spent two weeks in the hospital but this house already feels different. I've spent longer periods of time away while I have been on the tennis tour but it doesn't feel like home anymore. Everything just reminds me of a different time. There are photographs on the mantlepiece of me winning tennis tournaments and jet skiing in the Caribbean. The coffee table in front of me was perfect distance from the couch for me to put my feet up on while Katniss snuggled into me.

This was the home of my two-legged self.

* * *

Mum and Dad eventually go but the house seems even more intimidating without them here. Without them I am left with only Katniss and reminders of tennis everywhere. I find myself staring at the photos of me playing tennis again. My eyes fixate on my left leg, the one I no longer have. The crushing reality that I will never play tennis again hits me harder than ever before. I'll never get to experience the enjoyment of puzzling out the best way to beat an opponent. I won't feel the thrill of competing and the adrenaline buzz when the crowd roar me on. The ecstatic feeling of lifting a trophy will never happen. It's all gone.

I sniff back a tear as I slam one of the photos down, not wanting a reminder of a better time. Katniss comes through looking quizzical but I just turn and hobble away.

Katniss chooses to ignore the turned down picture and leaves me alone. The whole process of leaving the hospital has knackered me and Katniss makes us dinner but I don't have the energy to talk to her so for once it is her that makes all the conversation. After dinner I give up any pretence that I have any energy and say I'm going to bed.

But going to bed is just another thing that I'm dreading. Until I can move up and down the stairs more easily I'm stuck to the ground floor and we've temporarily transformed the study into a bedroom. Plus getting changed is still pretty difficult, particularly removing the bottom half so I have to rely on Katniss to help me.

She doesn't moan as she helps me out of my shorts or bat an eyelid when I call her through after I have dropped my toothbrush as I sit on the toilet. She fluffs up the pillows and makes sure my crutches are in reaching distance as I roll onto the bed. It's only then that she goes about her own night time routine.

"You don't have to go to bed now too. It's still light," I say.

"I'm going to read for a bit. I've missed having you home and just want to be around you," she replies.

I shake my head.

"You don't need to lie. I know you're just staying so that I don't fall out of bed," I say.

Katniss stops changing to look me directly in my eye.

"Yes, I'm worried about you but that's not the reason I'm staying tonight. I've hated having the bed all to myself these last two weeks. I've been missing you like crazy and I just want to fall asleep in the same bed as my boyfriend. Stop pitying yourself and let me be your girlfriend," she says.

I shrink back into the pillows a little guiltily. I'm still finding it hard to believe that she still wants to be with me and I don't want her to be angry at me.

"I'm sorry," I reply. "I'm just frustrated that I need all this help."

Katniss smiles sadly at me and reaches out to stroke some hair back.

"I know," she says. "But you need to remember I want to help."

I wish she didn't have to but this is one of the nicer moments we've had since my surgery and I don't want to spoil it. I lean up for a kiss and Katniss opens her mouth for me. Our tongue tangle briefly before I pull back and Katniss places a kiss on my forehead.

She smiles softly at me before she goes off to brush her teeth and I don't know what I did to deserve her.

Neither of us sleep well that night. I'm very conscious that I'm not in my normal bed upstairs and spend a lot of the night lying awake resenting that. I think Katniss senses my distress and as a result keeps waking up in the middle of the night and checking on me. It's also hard having her in bed and not being able to wrap my arms around her. Normally she would end up draped over me but my stump in still sensitive and can't handle any pressure against it. At one point she rolls over in the night and accidently knocks my leg. The shooting pains are instant and I can't help but let out a yelp of pain. Katniss then spends the next half an hour apologising and checking that I took all my pain medication before trying to go back to sleep.

When we both finally get up the next morning I don't think either of us are very rested and the phantom pains in my leg appears again. I groan as I get out of bed and Katniss dashes off to get my medication but I've come to learn there is nothing I can do for these pains and I will just have to bear it until it subsides.

I'm also dreading this day because my mum insisted that we hosted a welcome home party. I don't really feel like celebrating anything but at least it gets everyone here at one time and I don't have to have lots of individual visits where I have the same conversation again and again.

Mum and Dad arrive early to help with the preparations and Mum seems to have made a mountain of finger food. Katniss reckons she's done it to distract her from everything but it feels like Mum has made enough to feed to five hundred people.

I'm as good as useless during the party prep. The phantom pains are still sharp and leave me sitting on the couch. Dad and Katniss step on the ladders to hang the banner while mum sets out at the food and glasses. I'm given some balloons to blow up but my body uses more oxygen at the moment to do even basic tasks and I run out of breath quickly. Frustrated I abandon my task and push myself up to grab a drink of water.

I hop to the kitchen where Katniss is pulling out bottles of drink. Thankfully there are some cups on the counter so it is relatively easy for me to slide the cup along to the sink while still on my crutches. Katniss watches me carefully as I then rest my weight against the counter and use one hand to keep a tight grip on it. I use my free hand to turn on the tap before reaching out for the cup and placing it under the stream of water. Once it is filled I remove the glass and slide it back along the counter. Only then can I turn back to the tap to turn it off. However as I turn the tap one of my crutches slips and topples to the floor. My body begins swaying due to the loss of balance and I have to react quickly so that both my hands catch hold of the counter top and stop me falling.

"Fuck! Shit!" I yell.

I adjust my grip on the counter to help steady myself but I have no idea how I'm going to bend and pick up my crutch without falling over. But Katniss dashed to my side as soon as she heard the clatter of the crutch and swoops down effortlessly to pick it up. She hands it to me with a smile.

"Hey. It's okay," she says.

"It's not fucking okay. I can't even get a glass of water by myself," I reply.

Katniss begins rubbing soothing circles on my back.

"It's not always going to be like this. You will be able to do these things again," she says.

I hang my head and shake it.

"I'm tired of feeling so useless," I say.

Katniss continues to rub circles on my back and reaches up to place a kiss on my cheek.

"You'll never be useless to me," she replies.

I don't reply. Still angry at myself for messing up getting a cup of water.

Soon the house begins filling up with friends and family. Nearly everyone here had come to see me at the hospital so at least I don't have to go through the look of slight horror on most people's faces the first time they see the stump.

Bran, Rye and Madge all arrive together and Madge hands me a squashed cake box.

"I apologise now. I made this cake for you. It was even chocolate fudge, your favourite, but Rye sat on it when he got in the car," she says.

"You shouldn't have left it on the back seat," Rye replies.

"You should have looked where you were sitting," Madge counters.

Bran rolls his eyes.

"I did offer to stop off at Waitrose on the way so we could buy an unsquashed cake," he says.

"No. I spent ages making this cake. It was the least I can do after everything," Madge says.

I sigh heavily. I'm getting a little tired of Madge constantly blaming herself. I've already told her it wasn't her fault. I don't want to have to keep reassuring her every time she feels bad about it. What else does she want me to say?

"A cake is hardly going to make up for the fact I lost my leg," I say.

Madge goes pale and hangs her head while Rye suddenly becomes very interested in the woodwork. Bran frowns as he puts a comforting arm around Madge's waist.

"Making a cake was just a nice thing to do, Peeta. And I'm sure Katniss will still eat it squashed or unsquashed," he says.

Madge smiles up at Bran gratefully and I let out a little huff.

"Sorry. It's just it's not like I enjoy this party. I'm basically stuck in this chair and can't have any alcohol. Whoop-de-doo," I reply.

Rye slaps me on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, bro. I'll drink for the both of us," he says.

I don't think Rye got the point.

Bran then looks to Madge.

"Do you want anything? I'm sticking to the soft stuff because I'm driving but would you like a gin and tonic?" he asks.

"Yes, please," Madge replies with a smile.

Rye turns to Bran and raises his hands slightly.

"Hey! Why aren't you offering me a drink?" he asks.

"Because you have a nose like a bloodhound when it comes to alcohol. You can sniff it out yourself," Bran replies.

Rye grins cheekily as he taps his nose.

"You are right there! It's my super power!" he declares.

Madge laughs and even I manage to muster a smile. Rye then immediately turns in the direction of the drinks table and the three of them all head towards it as Rye boosts about some whiskey cocktail he has supposedly invented.

As soon as they have gone an aunt and cousin come to sit beside me and chat. It's like everyone here has made a pact to make sure I'm not alone for long. I'm aware that Mum is only ever five or so paces away and Katniss acts like my personal butler, jumping up to get me anything I need, whether it's food, drink or an extra pillow.

I get a brief ten second lull between conversations and use this as an opportunity to go to the toilet. I grab my crutches to hop along and Mum immediately rushes to my side.

"Where are you going?" she asks a little panicked.

"The toilet. And I would really appreciate it if I didn't have an audience for it. I have to pee sitting down which is embarrassing enough," I say.

Mum steps back only slightly.

"Well I'll come and stand outside the door. You might fall," she says.

"I need to do this by myself, Mum. I don't need you following my every move," I say a little harshly.

Mum steps back even further and looks down.

"I'll come looking for you if you're not back in ten minutes," she says.

I huff and roll my eyes, annoyed that she is treating me like a baby. I hop away as fast as I can to the toilet.

It takes a lot longer than normal but I manage to successfully navigate the toilet by myself. I reluctantly hop back to the noise of the main party, not wanting Mum to come and find me, but stop when I hear Katniss and Haymitch's voices in the kitchen. I peer around the corner of the door to get a better look.

"How are you doing, sweetheart?" Haymitch asks.

"I'm fine," Katniss replies.

Haymitch tips his head to the side to look at her.

"You don't need to be fine. This is hard on you too," he says.

Katniss sighs as she pulls her head back up to look at him.

"But someone needs to be fine. Everyone else is falling apart," she says.

Haymitch looks at her sympathetically.

"His mum still bursts into tears at least three times a day. His dad can only talk about rehab and physio. His brothers just ignore the fact it's even happened and Madge keeps blaming herself. And don't even get me started on Peeta. He's so angry at what happened and snapping at everyone. And everyone is just letting him because he's just lost his leg and none of us can understand what that must be like. Someone needs to be able to keep everything together and at the moment that seems to be me," Katniss says.

I'm pissed off that they are talking about me. Of course I'm angry. My whole life was tennis and winning matches on the tour and that's all been ripped away from me. I'm angry that I can't live the life I want. I can't even do basic things like pee standing up right now. I shouldn't be judged for feeling like this.

"It shouldn't have to come all down on you. I'm worried about you, Katniss," Haymitch adds.

"Don't worry about me. I'm a strong person and I'm going to work my hardest to make Peeta realise that he's strong too," she says.

Haymitch sighs and I've had enough of listening. I don't want to hear their opinions.

Mum senses I'm in a bad mood when I come back but has the sense not to ask me about it. Katniss comes back with a glass of water for me but I'm still pissed she was talking about me behind my back and barely acknowledge her for the rest of the party.

Thankfully my bad mood seems to make Mum realise that the party should move on and she subtly starts suggesting people leave.

Effie comes over to place two kisses on my cheeks as she leaves.

"It's been lovely to see you back home. I know this is the start of a good recovery process!" she says cheerily.

"As long as you don't post about this party on Instagram," I say, only half joking.

Effie lets out an awkward laugh as she steps back and then Haymitch steps forward to say his own goodbye.

"It was good seeing you, Peeta. I know tomorrow is going to be tough for you but let Katniss distract you," he says.

Tomorrow is the men's Wimbledon final and Cato is in the final against a Swiss veteran player. I've tried my best to avoid Wimbledon these past two weeks and thankfully the England football team made an unexpected run to the World Cup semi-finals which has distracted the public enough once it was announced my leg had been amputated. I nod my head at Haymitch but am annoyed that he seemed more concerned about Katniss than me earlier.

Haymitch tips his head in goodbye and then steps back to join Effie. His hand slips into hers and she smiles up sweetly at him. If I was in a better state of mind I might even be happy for them.

Madge and my brothers follow through moments later to leave. Madge has had a few gin and tonics and is pretty giggly. She's looking up at Rye in a way I've seen too many times before. Their hips are glued together and they find any opportunity tontouvh each other.

"Thanks for the booze, Peeta. But it's time for us to head out. Who's coming with me?" he asks, turning to Bran and Madge.

Bran shakes his head.

"Not me. I'm not in the mood," he replies.

Rye shrugs his shoulder and turns to Madge with a grin.

"Looks like it's just you and me. You game?" he asks.

"I can give you a lift back now if you don't want to go out," Bran says to Madge.

She turns to smile at him in thanks.

"Thanks but I'm not ready to go home just yet," she replies.

Rye grins wider and flings his arm around Madge.

"Great! I know just the pub!" he says.

Bran sighs and Madge looks over her shoulder at him as they both leave.

"Bye, Peeta! I'll catch you on Tuesday for lunch, Bran!" she says.

Bran nods his head but Madge's attention is already turned back to Rye as they start giggling about something.

Bran turns back to me.

"Do you still want us to come round for the world cup final tomorrow?" he asks.

"Sure," I say.

Bran smiles and says he's looking forward to it. I nod my head and then he leaves.

It doesn't take long after that for the last few remaining guests to depart. Katniss comes and sits down beside me, placing a hand on my thigh. I let out a loud sigh and hang my head back against the sofa.

"Thank God that's over," I say.

* * *

The next day I don't want to get out of bed. It's Sunday 15th July. Men's Wimbledon final day.

Just over two weeks ago I was determined I was going to be there. The thought of playing in it made me nervous and excited on an equal measure. I wanted that gold trophy so bad. I was going to end the eighty years of waiting the British public had endured for a male winner. My whole life had been building up to win Wimbledon. What's the point in my life now?

The phantom pains seem to be worst that usual this morning, as if my body is taunting me for not being able to play the Wimbledon final. Katniss gently nudges me as she stirs awake and it causes me to scream out louder than usual. Katniss jumps awake quickly when she hears me and immediately asks me if I need more pain medication but I just shake my head and pull the duvet over me. I just want to block out the rest of the world.

I stay in this position for several hours and only nod and shake my head if Katniss comes to speak to me. It just feels like there is this big weight bearing down on me that makes it so hard to get out of bed. Every part of my body feels heavy and I know that if I leave the bed I'm just going to have to pretend that I'm fine with everything. I have no energy for that.

But Katniss doesn't let me wallow all day. As well as the Wimbledon final, the football world cup concludes today. England may have fallen at the last hurdle but Katniss invited my brothers round anyway to watch the final. I think it's her way to distract me from the other big sporting event happening today.

She comes through in the early afternoon and pulls the duvet clean off my body. I scramble to pull it back over me buy Katniss has always been surprisingly strong and yanks it completely out of my grip.

"Your brothers will be here soon. I really think it would be good for you to get up and see them," she says.

"I can't. It's too much of an effort to get ready," I say.

The very thought of getting out of this bed and doing everything I need to do to get ready makes the weight bearing down on me seem even heavier. Katniss looks at me sympathetically as she sits down on the bed and reaches out to brush a curl off my face.

"Then take it step at a time. I'm not asking you to get ready. I'm just asking you to get up and go to the toilet," she says.

That one step doesn't sound so hard and she's looking at me with such tenderness that it makes me want to please her. With a big breath I nod my head and force myself to sit up. Katniss smiles at me once I do this and then helps me reach for my crutches before helping me to the bathroom.

Of course going to the toilet turns into brushing my teeth. And then brushing my teeth turns into a shower and slowly Katniss guides me through the whole routine to get ready. None of it is easy and it takes a huge effort to complete each task. I am only feeling a little better by the time I make it to the couch, sitting with a plate of toast in my hand, just moments before my brothers arrive.

Bran arrives first carrying a carrier bag of goods and looking a bit apologetic.

"Rye told me to say he's sorry but he's still hungover from last night," Bran says.

I shake my head, annoyed and a little jealous that my brother used my party last night as an excuse to have a good time while I have basically been stuck in a chair since I got home.

"Glad to see getting drunk is a higher priority than his brother," I reply bitterly.

Katniss sighs too as she helps Bran set out the snacks and drinks he brought in the carrier bags.

"It's not just the hangover that's keeping him away. I got a text from Madge this morning saying she got really drunk last night and ended up sleeping with him. They are probably still naked in bed together," she says.

It doesn't surprise me in the slightest that Rye has used the situation to get laid. Madge would have been easy to lure into bed because she feels so guilty.

Bran shakes his head.

"I thought the two of them were over fucking around with each other. Madge told me only last month that she was getting tired of all the partying and wanted something more serious. And Rye admitted it will never be more than sex between them," he says.

"I never understood the causal sex thing. But Rye's always seemed to have this spell over Madge that makes her fall into bed with him whenever he clicks his fingers," Katniss adds. "And she always feels a little bit embarrassed after it's happened. I don't know how many times I have to tell her it's not doing anything good for her."

I stay quiet. At least they get to have sex. The thought of Katniss touching me makes me want to squirm. She shouldn't have to be near my ugly stump.

"Though I don't think they were the only two people that went home together after the party. Effie and Haymitch left holding hands," Katniss says.

Bran laughs.

"I'm not sure I want that image in my head. I bet they spend most of the time telling each other off while they are doing it," he says.

Katniss grins.

"I think both of them would battle to be the dominate one," she replies.

Bran shivers and shakes his head.

"Really unpleasant pictures are in my head now," he says.

Katniss laughs and normally I would join in with some witty comment but I'm not in the mood for jokes. The heaviness still seems to surround me.

"They're actually really sweet together. I think they've grown closer these last couple of weeks. I even saw Haymitch holding Effie's compact mirror up for her as she touched up her make-up," Katniss says.

Bran smiles.

"That's all you want. Someone who's willing to squeeze your spots and laugh at your jokes," he replies.

Or in my case feed me pain medication and check bandages on my stump. Katniss really has a shit deal.

They carry on talking about Haymitch and Effie for a little while longer but I don't contribute. They then turn on the football coverage and Bran starts talking to me about predictions and the best moments of the tournament so far. I give one or two word answers and after a while he turns to Katniss with a sigh and gives up.

The match starts and I find it hard to debate the dubious referee decisions that lead to two goals and couldn't care less who goes in at half time in the lead.

"What a game!" Bran declares. "This world cup keeps on giving. Are you enjoying it, Peet?"

I shrug my shoulder.

"I never planned on being available to watch it," I reply in reference to the Wimbledon final.

I've not been checking the scores so I don't know if the match is still going on or if one of them has managed to break the other to win the most coveted trophy in tennis. The thought of even finding out the winner fills me with pain and longing.

Bran looks down at his feet feeling awkward and unsure how to reply. Katniss sits up and reaches out to place a hand on my arm.

"I know you'd rather be somewhere else right now. This was only ever meant to be a distraction," she replies.

"Well I'm not distracted. I don't care about the football and it's too hard to care about tennis," I say.

Katniss gives my arm a squeeze.

"I can't imagine how hard today is for you but try to stay positive. Did you book an appointment with the therapist next week? I think it might help you to work through some of these feelings," she says.

I scowl and shake my arm out her grip.

"I'm already weak enough. Going to a therapist just makes me even more fucking pathetic," I say.

I can feel the anger begin to rise up inside of me again. I hate being this weak and vulnerable. I always prized myself on my strength and endurance and now I feel like half the man I used to be. I want to go back to the healthy Peeta Mellark with two legs. I want the be the Peeta Mellark that won tennis matches and was cheered on by admirers. Every time I remember I can't be that person again I get angry.

"Therapy doesn't make you weak. The doctors highly recommend it because you're dealing with so many feelings of loss. It's normal to feel that way," Katniss replies.

I shake my head fiercely and turn away from her. Bran puts up his hands in defence.

"Hey I understand you, Peeta. I hate talking about my feelings too. I wouldn't want to spill my guts to a stranger either," he says.

Katniss scowls at him but I'm just glad someone seems to see my point of view for once. Katniss moves so she's face to face with me again.

"I think you need to do something, Peeta, because you're not happy right now. Therapy shouldn't be seen as a bad thing. I'm thinking of going to some myself," she says.

My eyebrows raise up in indignation.

"Why would you go? This isn't about you. You haven't lost your leg and career in one go. Your life is still in tact! I exclaim.

"If you don't think your amputation hasn't affected other people too than you are more selfish than I realised," she replies, finally raising her voice. "I just want to help you, Peeta, because right now I feel like I'm failing. I thought therapy might help me figure it all out."

And with that she flees the room. There is an awkward silence afterwards and it takes a long time for Bran to speak.

"You know she hasn't let anyone see her cry. She's trying to be strong for both of you," he eventually says.

I stay silent. I've never shouted at her like that before.

* * *

Bran stays until the end of the match but I know I'm not good company and he makes his excuses soon after the whistle blows. He encourages me to go and speak to Katniss but I'm not sure I can speak without getting angry again. Anger seems to be the main emotion I've been feeling recently.

But our paths cross in the kitchen. Katniss eyes flick in my direction but she quickly looks away and doesn't say anything. I realise that I should probably be the one who says something first.

"I'm sorry for shouting at you. I just seem to get angry really quickly right now," I say.

Katniss looks up at me and nods her head but she doesn't say anything. Suddenly I realise how annoying it must be for everyone when I don't respond to their questions. I let out a big sigh as I rest all my weight on my crutches.

"I'll book that appointment with the therapist. Maybe it will help," I concede.

I still don't like the thought of going but I don't like fighting with Katniss and I seem to be doing more of that recently. Maybe therapy will help with that.

Katniss nods her head again and I think she's then going to leave without saying anything again but after a moment she comes over to me and wraps her arms around me.

"I'm always trying to do what is best for you, Peeta," she says.

I manage to take one of my hands off my crutches to wrap it around her too. We hold each other for a long moment and it's the longest we've held each other since my surgery.

* * *

It's a little easier to get out of bed the next day but when I turn on the TV I can't hide from the Wimbledon final any longer. After they talk about the World Cup final there is a section on the men's match yesterday and I discover that Cato did in fact win his second Wimbledon title. But my heart sinks when they show a clip of his winner's speech and he directly mentions me.

" _Finally I just want to mention Peeta Mellark. He was my best friend on the tour and I know you all love him here. I wanted him to be in this final just as much as you all did and tennis is losing a great talent. My thoughts have been with him, his team and his family this week and I want to dedicate this win to him. We're going to miss you on the tour, buddy," he says._

I scowl and shut of the TV quickly. Cato and I were good friends on the tour. We often went out to dinner together and would challenge each other to stupid tasks in the locker room but I can't believe he really cares that I wasn't playing now. It just made winning Wimbledon easier for him.

* * *

Katniss takes me to a session with Cressida for my rehab but even I know that I'm not putting in my best effort and Cressida shakes her head at me.

"I know getting a prosthetic is going to be a few more weeks yet but the more work you put in now the quicker you'll be walking properly on two feet again," she says.

"Sorry. It just was a tough weekend," I reply.

"You were a professional sportsman. I bet there wasn't a training session Haymitch let you get away with putting in less than 100% effort. I'm going to be the same. You need to start viewing these as your training sessions. You'll find everything will get easier if you do," she says.

I nod my head but don't tell her it was a lot easier to train when there was the thought of winning a trophy at the end. My heart aches for those gruelling training session again. At least then I had a clear goal of what I was working towards.

I'm exhausted after the rehab session and collapse onto the sofa when we get back to the house. I look at my watch and am surprised that Katniss has started making dinner when she usually has a song writing class today. She's been going to class pretty much from the moment I met her. It's a way for aspiring songwriters to hone their skills and is a great place to network. Sometimes music producers come and then sign up some of the talent.

"I thought you would eat after song writing group," I say.

Katniss shakes her head.

"I'm not going any more. There's too much to do here. You need me," she says.

I open my mouth to question her further but then her phone starts ringing and she pulls it out her pocket. Her eyes widen when she sees the caller ID.

"It's Cato," she says.

I scowl and fold my arms across my chest.

"Reject the call. I don't want to hear him gloat," I reply.

Katniss shakes her head as she walks towards me and sits down beside me.

"He'll be worried about," she says.

I go to speak again but Katniss has already hit the answer button and put him on loud speaker.

"Hi, Cato. Peeta's here and I've put you on loud speaker," she says.

"Hi, guys. Sorry I haven't called earlier. I think we've all had a lot going on recently," he says.

I scoff.

"I think winning Wimbledon is a lot easier than losing a leg," I reply.

Katniss gives me a look before turning back to the phone.

"We're just trying to adjust to everything. And congratulations on your win yesterday," she says.

"Thank you. But it was bittersweet. I wanted to be playing you out there yesterday," he replies.

"Well that's never going to happen again," I say.

There is a moment of silence before he speaks again.

"I missed you in the locker room too. Marvel is not as nearly as good at you at dares. He only lasted twenty seconds in the ice bath challenge," Cato says.

"Ice baths are one of the things I'm not going to miss about tennis," I reply.

Cato chuckles and Katniss smiles.

"I want to come and see you. Clove wants to come too. I thought we could maybe do dinner. I'm in the UK until Friday," he says.

And then he'll be out to the States to start preparations for the American hard court season. I'd give anything to be out there too. My heart constricts painfully at the thought of missing it for the first time in five years.

"I don't think that's a good idea. I think it's best I take a clean break from tennis. I don't need reminders of it," I say.

"Peeta…I think we should think about this," Katniss says.

But I'm adamant. Just talking to Cato has made me long for tennis again. I can't sit and listen to his stories about the tour when I can no longer be part of them. I don't want to have to put myself through that pain.

"I'm sorry, Cato. Goodbye," I say.

I then reach for my crutches and struggle a little to get up. But when I do, I hop away. This is going to be the last time I talk about tennis.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone that is sticking with Peeta on this journey. The mental recovery is going to be harder than the ohysical one


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

My new prosthetic leg stands in front of me just waiting to be put on. After almost three months and several preliminary fittings the wound on my leg is deemed healed enough to have my new limb fitted properly.

The leg is shiny and black with a narrower silver pole in the ankle area. There are springs hidden in the natural looking foot that will supposedly help if I want to do sport. Everyone keeps saying how big a deal it is to get this fitted and I know it will eventually lead me to walk unaided but it just seems so robotic staring at it now. I'm no longer a complete human being. I'm part human, part machine.

So many people are here to see it get properly fitted. My doctor and Cressida. Mum and Dad. Katniss. I'm glad my brothers couldn't take the time off work to come and see it too. I couldn't handle all the robot and pirate jokes.

Everyone here looks at me with nervous excitement. It's not been easy these last couple months, adjusting to my new identity, and even though I see a therapist once a week I'm still angry and bitter about it. I feel like there is so much pressure on today. It's like my family think everything is going to get magically better as soon as I get this fake leg. But I don't see how it's going to change anything. The prosthetic doesn't feel like it should be part of me.

The doctor smiles broadly as he steps forward with my new leg.

"Your leg has healed really nicely. Hopefully you'll have minimum complications with it going forward," he says.

"It's just a pity you couldn't grow me a new one," I grumble.

Mum's smile slips slightly at my comment and she reaches out to place a hand on my shoulder.

"We've got you one of the best prosthesis out there. In time it will probably feel like the real thing. Everything is going to start getting easier from here," she says.

"My life isn't going to be easy. The leg still doesn't look the same. I still can't play tennis," I reply.

Mum ducks her head and Cressida turns to me.

"But you'll be able to get rid of the crutches. Hell you'll even be able to pee standing up! There are positives, Peeta. You just need to find them," she says.

I sigh, still finding it hard to find positives in my situation. There has been very little good in my life these last few months.

The doctor starts rambling about how best to manage the wound on the stump. He warns that I could get blisters or sores at the end of it and that he recommends that I take it off if I'm sitting down for a long period of time. Next he puts on a lining sock over the end of my stump and explains how my prosthetic has a vacuum that should make the fit to my leg better and allows fluids to be more easily drawn back into my leg while I'm walking. He shows me how to put it on and it feels surreal as the prosthetic seems to suck my leg in. I stare down at the leg still not quite believing this is part of me now.

"How does it feel? Comfy? You need to tell us if it ever gets too uncomfortable. We'll get you an even better one," Dad says quickly.

"It's fine, Dad," I reply.

Katniss grins broadly at me.

"It suits you. I like it," she says.

"You don't have to lie," I reply.

Katniss rolls her eyes at me.

"Peeta, we both know I'm a rubbish actress and can't lie," she says.

I study her face for any sign of revulsion but I find none. Her eyes don't linger on my leg and fix on my face and her smile is full of fondness and a little bit of relief. It makes me release some of the tension I've been holding in my shoulders.

"I believe you," I admit.

Katniss smiles wider and then leans in to place a kiss on my cheek. The warmth of the touch leaves my cheek tingling.

Cressida is smiling broadly at me too and tips her head towards a set of parallel bars in the rehab room.

"Ready to try and stand? We have to start somewhere," she says.

I take a deep breath as I look at the parallel bars. I've been warned it can take months for me to learn to walk confidently without support and the bars seem to represent that challenge. But Cressida is right. I need to start somewhere and I would love to have people to stop hovering around me to check I don't fall. I turn back to Cressida and nod my head.

"Let's do this," I reply.

Mum and Dad let out a sigh of relief and Katniss gives me an encouraging smile. Cressida instructs me to use the arms of the chair to push myself up and she stands behind me to make sure I stay steady. I grip onto the arms of the chair tightly and take a deep breath as I push up. I wobble slightly as I stand but Cressida puts her hands on my waist to steady me. I put all my weight down on my good foot, not quite trusting me new leg and essentially hop to the bars with Cressida as my guide.

She lets go of me as soon as I have a grip on the parallel bars and stands to the side.

"That's a great start but I'm now going to ask you to put your full weight on your new leg. Right now you are basically balancing on one leg," she says.

I shake my head.

"It can't take it. I feel like I'm going to crumble if I bear down on it," I reply.

"You are not going to fall. You're holding onto the bars. You just need to build the trust in your new leg. I know it must feel weird at the moment but we're going to keep practising until it feels natural," she says.

"Just the very fact it is called a fake leg shows that this can never be natural," I say.

"You'll be surprised," Cressida says with a smile. "Just try putting your weight on it now."

I still don't trust my leg not to give out but I do reluctantly start to put more pressure on my it9. Cressida's smile broadens and she bends down to watch it.

"That's it. Keep going. You can still put more pressure on it," she encourages.

My grip on the parallel bars gets tighter as I put more weight onto my new leg and I grit my teeth. I keep expecting the leg to buckle but it stays firm. Cressida keeps shouting words of encouragement and eventually I feel like my leg can't take any more weight. When I stop Cressida stands up beaming.

"That's great. I told you you wouldn't fall," she says.

"This feels weird," I reply.

"It will for a while. But it's just like tennis. You practise to get better at it," she says.

I nod my head, finally finding something that she says relatable.

Mum stands in the corner, clutching Dad while she wipes a tear from her eye. I shake my head.

"Jesus, Mum. I haven't even taken a step yet," I say.

Mum sniffs as she shakes her head.

"It feels just like when you stood for the first time as a baby. And I cried then too so this is totally normal for me," she replies.

I shake my head at her before turning back to Cressida. She is still smiling encouragingly at me.

"We'll have your mum in floods of tears by the end of this," she says. "Let's see if you can take that first step."

Taking that step is not easy. I rely heavily on my good leg to support me and even though I eventually manage to walk the length of the parallel bars even I know that I'm not putting the weight properly on my prosthetic and I grip tightly onto the bars the entire time. Cressida assures me that this is totally normal but it makes me realise how long a process this is going to be. The stairs to my bedroom on the first floor seem as intimidating as ever.

Mum insists on taking us out for lunch afterwards but all anyone can talk about is my session today. I feel like Mum and Dad have forgotten how to talk to me about anything other than my leg and rehab. Katniss senses my frustration and squeezes me hand in comfort throughout the meal but any attempts by her to move the conversation on are quickly steered back to me by my parents.

I'm still using my crutches until I become more comfortable with the prosthetic and am tired when we eventually get back home. All I want to do is lie on the sofa and catch up with a box set but to my dismay Effie is at our house and sifting through the mountain of post I've received the last few days.

Katniss looks up at me sympathetically when we see Effie sorting through it all at the kitchen table and gives my hand a squeeze.

"I know this is the last thing you want to do but be nice. She just does everything because she cares," she says.

I sigh as I nod my head and Katniss steps away to offer Effie a cup of tea. I slump down opposite Effie as I look at the pile of letters and packages.

"What did I get today?" I ask.

Since it was announced that my leg got amputated I've had hundreds of packages and letters from fans and well-wishers. Although my Instagram and twitter are still online I haven't looked or posted anything on them since the accident so post it the main way people contact me. Most of them are letters explaining how sorry they were to hear about my leg and that they always admired me as a tennis player. A lot of the letters tell me that I'm brave and inspirational, two things I definitely don't feel right now while some children draw me pictures and write get well soon. But I also get sent a lot of free stuff. Some people send me bake goods but I'm always a bit suspect about where they have been made while a surprisingly high number of people send me free t-shirts. I already spy a pile of them that Effie has neatly folded.

"Most of the usual stuff but some one knitted this for you," Effie replies.

She holds up the small knitted figure that actually looks a bit like me. But the figure is wearing tennis whites and holding a racquet and I know it will go straight in the bin. I've been pretty good about cutting myself out from the tennis world and only rarely let myself think about it. I even avoided following any of the US Open Championship and only found out last weekend that Cato got beaten in the final by a Croatian player.

"I thought I got a lot of free stuff when I was playing tennis but this is getting ridiculous," I reply.

"People are just showing you that they care," Effie says.

"By giving me free t-shirts? Sorry you lost a leg but here's a t-shirt to make up for it," I grumble. "It's all just pity gifts from people that feel guilty that they have two legs."

"I'm not so sure about that," Effie says. "I think it shows how much an effect you've had on people's lives."

I shake my head as I pick up some of the letters in front of me. I used to hope that I would inspire other kids to pick up a tennis racquet and compete and I wanted to make people happy when I won but now the thought of me affecting someone's life makes me feel uncomfortable.

Effie finishes sorting one pile and pushes it away before looking directly at me.

"But before I show you any more letters tell me about your new leg!" Effie exclaims.

Katniss comes back with three cups of tea and hands them out before sitting down beside me.

"He walked! Not correctly but it's a start," Katniss says with pride.

Effie claps her hand and then asks to see my prosthetic. I stick it for her and she coos over how stylish it is. I rehash what happened at the rehab centre and realise with a dread that I'm going to have to retell this story over and over again to my various family members and friends. Thankfully we're interrupted by Effie's phone ringing. Her face lights up when she sees the caller ID.

"Excuse me for being rude but it's Haymitch," she says.

Katniss gives me a smile before telling Effie it's okay. Effie smiles broadly when she answers. Her and Haymitch are an official couple now. They go to dinner several times a week together and Effie has even started to spruce up Haymitch's place with flowers and throw cushions. Haymitch grumbles about her fussing whenever he's around people but you can't deny the tender look in his eyes when he thinks no one is watching.

"Honestly, Haymitch, I can't believe you've been living in that flat for five years and you don't even know how to turn the oven on," Effie says after Haymitch has spoken for a while.

She then goes silent as he must say something and Effie rolls her eyes.

"Have you checked it's turned on at the wall? If the digital clock is blank that is probably the problem," she says.

Haymitch speaks again and Effie gets more irritated.

"Don't get pissed at me. I don't know where the switch is. Have you checked behind the empty whiskey bottles perhaps," she suggests.

More silence from Effie but we can hear Haymitch swearing down the phone. Eventually it sounds like he's found it and Effie rolls her eyes at us. Katniss bites back a laugh.

"You see. I'm always right. Did you see I left you my homemade steak pie for you to heat up?" she asks.

Haymitch speaks again and a smile appears on Effie's face.

"I know it's you favourite. I appreciate the compliment. You don't often give them out," she says.

I can just make out Haymitch's muffled voice and then Effie laughs.

"You are a lot funnier than you want people to think, Haymitch," Effie says. "But I need to go. I'm with Katniss and Peeta. I'll see you tonight. And I'll be wearing that little red dress you love so much."

Katniss laughs lightly and I shake my head. Effie and Haymitch eventually end their conversation and Effie looks positively glowing afterwards.

"You're still in the honeymoon phase I see," Katniss says raising her eyebrow.

"I'm too old to be in the honeymoon phase. But it's nice to have a male companion again after the mess of my divorce," Effie replies.

I'm not really sure how I feel about Effie and Haymitch. It's true Effie deserves happiness after her first husband left her for a younger woman but her relationship with Haymitch started at the same time I lost my leg. I don't really like the fact that two people have been able to use my tragedy to find happiness. I'm selfish, I know.

"I'm just so excited for his birthday next week. I've finally managed to book his favourite jazz band and got crates of his favourite whiskey. I just need to get a few more things to make the room feel like a real Vegas casino. Do you think fire eaters and trapeze artists are too much?" she asks.

Katniss laughs.

"You might as well get a magician and put on a burlesque show while you're at it," she says.

Effie gasps.

"I hadn't thought of a burlesque act. Haymitch would love it! Though I have dappled in a bit of burlesque myself you know," Effie says coyly.

"Really? You're full of surprises," Katniss replies with a smile.

Effie laughs but I stay quiet. I'm used to Effie going over the top but I'm dreading the party. I haven't really been out much in public since I lost my leg. The couple of times I have I feel like everyone is staring at me and the worst thing is when people think they are taking a picture of me slyly. That was bad enough when I was playing tennis but now it just seems like they will be laughing at the picture when they go home later. I know I will be surrounded by lots of friends at this party but that's not going to stop people staring.

"I'm going for a lie down. It's been a tiring day," I say.

Effie and Katniss abruptly stop talking about the party and Katniss strokes my arm.

"Okay. Do you need anything before you lie down?" she asks.

I shake my head.

"No. I'm fine," I say.

Katniss nods her head and I push myself up. I don't look back as I walk away wondering if I'll ever feel excited about a party again.

* * *

The next day I wake up stiff and sore because I used muscles in a new way yesterday. Though I actually quite like feeling stiff. It reminds of me how I used to feel after tennis matches. Maybe Cressida was right about me viewing the rehab sessions like practice sessions. Thinking like that makes it easier to get out bed and head out to see her.

Thankfully in today's session neither my parents or Katniss accompany me into the building and it's a relief to not have an audience as I try to put one foot in front of the other. I'm less wound up as a result when Katniss comes to pick me up and she smiles as she leans in for a kiss.

"You're not scowling for once. Things must have gone well," she says.

I shrug my shoulders still feeling like I have barely achieved anything yet.

"Things were a little easier today. I still don't fully trust me new leg yet," I reply.

Katniss just smiles at me again before driving off. I appreciate that she doesn't ask me any more questions about the session even though I can tell she is dying to. I'll get enough questions from my parents.

Sure enough Mum calls shortly after we get back to the house. She asks me a hundred different questions about the session today but in reality it wasn't really any different from yesterday.

Katniss gives me a sympathetic smile as she slides a freshly made sandwich in front of me and then takes a seat next to me. She wraps an arm around my waist, rubbing soothing circles before leaning her head against my shoulder.

"I need to go, Mum. Katniss has made lunch," I say.

"Oh of course I should leave you to eat. You need to keep your strength up. Particularly with all these rehab sessions coming up," Mum replies.

"I know, Mum," I say.

"Say hello to Katniss for me. That girl has been so good to you," Mum says.

I twist my head down to smile at Katniss.

"I know, Mum. I'll speak to you later," I say.

Mum says her goodbyes too and Katniss picks her head off my shoulder once I have hung up.

"You know you're going to have the same conversation with your dad," she says.

I sigh but grab Katniss by the waist to pull her towards me.

"Yep. Maybe I should make a recording of it and distribute to all the appropriate people," I say.

Katniss smiles proudly at me.

"What?" I ask.

Katniss smiles again and gives a little shake of the head.

"Nothing really," she says. "That was just a very Peeta thing to say."

I'm not sure what she's really trying to say but I like how fondly she is smiling at me right now so I don't pull away when she reaches up for a kiss. But all too soon her phone starts ringing.

Her lips remove themselves quickly away from mine as she goes to answer it. She looks down at the caller ID and then back at me.

"Madge is Facetiming me. Is it okay to answer?" she asks.

I nod my head as my hands keep a hold of her waist. Katniss plasters on a bright smile as she answers. Madge's blonde head pops onto the screen a moment later and Katniss gives her a little wave.

"Please tell me this isn't another call where you tell us you have slept with Rye again," Katniss says.

Madge rolls her eyes.

"I promise that is over for good now. He's chasing some red head and I'm pretty swamped at work right now," she replies.

Katniss and I share a look. We've heard that before.

"I'm actually calling for a good reason this time. I got a bunch of really awesome tickets to see the Seam Miners tonight," she says.

Katniss eyes light up and she leans in closer to the screen. I can see where this is going and my hands fall from Katniss' waist.

The Seam Miners are a more folky style of group and Katniss has seen them before. Folk music isn't one of her top music choices but I remember her coming back from their last gig and raving about how good they were live. I had been a little jealous. I had missed them while I was playing in Miami last year and Katniss didn't stop talking about them for weeks.

"Do you guys want a couple of tickets?" Madge asks.

"That's not going to happen, Madge," I reply.

Katniss' expression falls as soon as I say this and her shoulders slump forward. She then turns to me.

"It might not be that bad. You could wear your prosthetic and that would give you more balance on your crutches," she says.

I shake my head fiercely.

"I can't stand for that long and am not being the loser who sits for the entire gig. I won't have fun at it," I reply.

Katniss lets out a disheartened sigh but I know I would spend the whole gig looking at the two legged people and resenting the fact I can't bounce and move like them.

"Sorry, Madge. You'll have to find other people for the tickets," Katniss says.

Madge frowns a little.

"You could still come, Katniss. I'm sure Bran and Rye would be delighted to have a boys' night in with Peeta," Madge says.

I scowl not liking the fact they feel that I need to have a babysitter.

"I can look after myself for one night," I reply.

Madge and Katniss share a look that tells me that they are not convinced I could. Katniss shakes her head as she turns back to me.

"I don't mind not going. I think it's for the best that I stay with you," she says.

I let out a frustrated sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. Everyone keeps telling me that they want me to get better but it's hard when they all keep treating me like an invalid. They only times I've been left alone since my surgery have been when I've been in the toilet. And even then there is normally someone hovering not far from the door.

"I need to start being more independent, Katniss. And you need to go out with your friends. You've barely left me since the accident and you need to stop being scared about what could happen if you're not there," I say.

I've made up my mind now. Katniss needs to go out tonight. While we were always pretty close before the accident we were never this clingy with each other. It will probably do us both good for Katniss to get out the house.

Katniss chews on her bottom lip as she contemplates it and I sigh again.

"If you don't go then I'll just lock myself in the bathroom and you'll have no one to talk to," I say.

Katniss stares at me for a moment longer, checking to see if I'm being serious. When she decides that I am she lets out a breath and turns back to Madge with a smile.

"Looks like I' m coming," she says.

I let out a sigh of relief as Madge grins back and they start making plans.

* * *

Katniss becomes excited about the night out and plays The Seam Miners' music as she gets ready. It's been a while since I remember music being played in the house. It's just never seemed like the right mood since the accident and the music takes me back to the time before. Back then I was happy and knew who I was. Now I'm not so sure.

Katniss comes back down wearing skinny black jeans and sheer black top over a black bra. Her hair is down in loose waves and her look is completed with a coating of red lip stick. She looks absolutely gorgeous and I suddenly become jealous of her going out tonight. She's going to be surrounded by men tonight that are going to notice her. Men who can go out without a second thought and climb stairs. Men with two legs and a career that isn't in tatters. I couldn't blame her if her head was turned.

After everything that has happened it is still easy for her to slip back into the person she was before the accident. It's going to take me months to get anywhere remotely close to that and my mood sours at the thought.

Katniss chatters excitedly about the gig but when she realises that I'm not responding she turns to me with a concerned look. She walks over to stroke some hair off my face.

"Are you sure you're okay with me going. I don't like the thought of leaving you," she says.

"You'll all dressed up now," I reply a little coolly.

Katniss frowns at my response but then the doorbell rings and she gets up to answer. I groan when I hear the voices through the door moments later.

"Poker night, bro! Ready to take all of Bran's money!" Rye exclaims once they have come back through.

"Rye, you are the worst one at poker. You have no poker face and get way too excited when you have a decent hand," Bran replies.

I don't look at my brothers but turn to glare at Katniss.

"I told you that I didn't need to be babysat," I say.

Katniss does look a bit guilty but Rye cuts in.

"This was my idea. My finances are struggling just before pay day and I needed a night in," he says.

It's a poor lie made even more obvious by the fact that neither Bran or Katniss can look at me. I shake my head at them as I cross my arms over my chest.

"You need to start trusting me Katniss," I say.

"I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to be alone," she replies.

I turn away from her and she hesitates by the door. She'll need to leave soon if she wants to make it on time and normally she would never leave without giving me a kiss but I don't feel like one right now. I'm too mad at her still molly coddling me. She takes a step forward but then has second thoughts and steps back. She looks down at her toes as she says her goodbyes.

"Have a good night, boys. Don't take all of Rye's money," she says.

I don't turn to respond to her and leave it to my brothers to say goodbye.

"We'll probably just end up playing with monopoly money. It's so easy to beat Rye that it's not actually enjoyable taking his money," Bran replies. "Enjoy the gig, Katniss."

Katniss smiles at him and nods her head before hovering for just a moment longer and then ducking out the door.

Bran and Rye talk around me as they get everything set up for a boys' night in but I let my annoyance at Katniss fester and grow into an even darker mood.

My brothers try their best to pull me out of my foul mood but I'm doing the exact opposite of what my therapist tells me to do and dwell on all the negatives. I picture Katniss at the gig, dancing and laughing and not even giving me a second thought. Apart from an apology text wishing me a good night with my brothers she doesn't contact me for the rest of the evening. It's made even worse when Madge messages my brothers pictures and videos from the gig and I can only assume Katniss doesn't message me because she is having too good a time to care about me. She's probably flirting with some guy while I'm stuck here watching my brothers see how many Malteasers they can catch with their mouths.

Bran and Rye both pass out on the couch around about 1am and I'm getting even more pissed that Katniss is still not back home. The gig should have finished at midnight. If she really didn't want to leave me as much as she said she did she would have come straight back home. I send her message asking her when she thinks she will get home but I only get silence in response. I get up from the sofa more than a little pissed off and hobble to my downstairs bedroom.

I brush my teeth more forcibly than usual and throw my clothes onto the floor. I crash down on the bed and look up at the ceiling as I keep picturing all the things Katniss is doing without me.

I must doze off a little bit because I'm woken by Katniss crashing through the door. I twist to see the alarm clock by my bed and see that it is after three in the morning. Katniss stumbles into the room sometime later and swears when she bashes her toe. I turn on the light and she looks a bit apologetic as she tries to steady herself against the doorframe.

"Of shit. I didn't mean to wake you," she says.

"What did you expect when you came home pissed at three in the morning?" I say bitterly. "I messaged you. It would have been nice of you to tell me when you were coming home."

"I'm sorry. My phone died. I'm sorry if I worried you," she says.

She then crawls onto the bed and slumps down beside me. I just shake my head and turn away from her.

"Your phone can't have been dead the whole night. You could have found time to message me about the gig. Madge found the time to message my brothers," I say.

Katniss frowns.

"I didn't want to rub my night out in your face. I know you were annoyed you couldn't go and have hated seeing anyone had a good time since your accident," she replies.

The small logical part of my brain knows that she's making a fair point but I'm grouchy from lack of sleep and still pissed off so the irrational part of my brain takes over.

"Or you were too busy having fun to care about me," I say.

Katniss' frown deepens and she sits up properly on the bed.

"You can't be pissed off at me for having fun tonight! I wanted to stay in with you but you told me to go out. You told me I needed to go out and have fun with my friends!" she replies.

"You didn't take a lot of persuading! And clearly it didn't take you long to forget about me," I say.

Katniss shakes her head fiercely at me.

"You are being an arsehole right now! I spent the whole night wishing you were there with me and hoping that your rehab goes well so that you feel confident about coming with me. Don't you ever insinuate that I don't care about you or could forget about you! I love you and have put up with so much shit from you since the accident. But I'm still here and wanting to be with you!" she exclaims.

She then sniffs loudly and roughly wipes a tear that has slipped down her cheek. I look down at my knees ashamed I have made her cry.

"You're not being fair on me. I haven't done anything wrong and I'm sorry if you got upset that I didn't message you tonight but I didn't deserved to be yelled at when I got back because of it," she says.

She then sniffs again and pushes herself off the bed.

"I'm going to sleep upstairs. I don't want to argue anymore," she says.

I should probably open my mouth and say something to her. Apologise for shouting at her and making her cry. The logical part of my brain resurfaces again and tells me that the only reason I'm shouting at her is because I'm jealous I'm still basically stuck in the house and can't go out and have fun with her. I'm frustrated that I can't do all the things I used to and am unsure who I am as a result. But I can't formulate these thoughts into sentences.

I watch her hastily grab a few of her things and then storm out. I stare at the door for a long moment before turning to the empty space on the bed beside me. We've never gone to bed still angry at each other.

* * *

 **A/N: thank you to everyone who is sticking by Peeta on this journey. He's got a long way to go and there will be plenty of painful moments on the way.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I stand between the parallel bars with Cressida waiting at the other end. Katniss stands to the side watching me carefully as I try to get my balance on my prosthetic leg. For the last month I have been coming to this rehab nearly every day but progress is frustratingly slow. It was only this week that Cressida decided I was confident enough on my leg for me to walk along the parallel bars using only one hand instead of two.

"When you're ready, Peeta, let go of one of your hands. Remember to take your time as you come to me," Cressida instructs.

I bite on my bottom lip as I look down at my feet and prepare myself to let go of one of the bars. I still can't get used to the mechanical looking leg that is now attached to my body. It is a constant reminder that I will never be able to play tennis again and I'm not sure who I am.

"Just take it a step at a time. You'll do great," Katniss encourages.

I don't say anything in return. Things haven't been great between us since we had the argument after the gig she went to. I did apologise the next morning but I still find myself snapping at her. Even with all the therapy sessions I can't shift the anger I still feel at losing a leg and Katniss is so often in my firing line.

Katniss steps back when I don't reply and I keep my focus on my feet. With a deep breath I let go of one of the parallel bars while keeping a tight grip on the other. I place forward my good leg first and try to walk to the other end.

My first couple of steps are steady which gives me confidence to move a bit quicker. But it only takes two more steps after that for my prosthetic foot to slip, causing my leg to buckle and me to begin to fall. My free arm scratches at the air as I try to catch hold of the parallel bar, eventually catching on to it but I still land on my arse with a thump. Katniss rushes over to me and puts her arms around my shoulders but I shake her off, embarrassed that I have fallen yet again in front of her.

"You were going too fast. It's okay to take your time," she says.

I glower at her.

"Why are you giving me advice? You're not trained to help me," I reply.

Katniss pulls back and scowls at me.

"I've been here nearly every day, Peeta. I think I've picked up a few things," she says.

Cressida then bends down in front of me to look me in the eye.

"Katniss is right, Peeta. You are going too fast. You are literally trying to run before you can walk," she says.

I shake my head in frustration.

"But I used to be able to run. I used to be able to chase down a tennis ball and still be able to lob it over the net. Sometimes I would run out so wide to hit back a tennis ball I was nearly in the stands with the spectators. Now I couldn't even walk to them without crutches," I grumble.

"You've got to stop comparing what you could do before you lost your leg. It'll will never be the same and until you start thinking positively about the things you will be able to do you won't be able to make as much progress," Cressida replies.

I huff as I use the bars to pull myself up. My therapist tells me the same thing but it's all too easy to let the dark thoughts in.

"I'm done for the day. I'm sick of falling in front of you," I say.

Cressida and Katniss share a look but I don't look back. I take off my prosthetic and grab my crutches wanting to get away from my failure as soon as possible.

Katniss eventually follows me to the car and I tap on the roof of the car impatiently as I wait for her to get out the keys. As I am waiting a young couple get out of the car opposite. They are laughing when they get out but the male nudges his partner in the side.

"Hey look. It's Peeta Mellark," he whispers loudly.

I duck my head as I turn away from them, hating feeling like I'm being watched like an animal in the zoo.

"Oh my God! His leg is actually a proper stump. You would of thought they would have given him a fake one by now," the girl replies.

I clench my fists so hard that my nails start to dig into my skin. They have no idea how hard it is to learn to walk with a mechanical limb. This isn't the movies or TV. I'm not going to be magically cured in the next scene or episode.

Katniss is cursing as she rummages around her bag trying to find the keys and isn't aware of what the people are saying across the street. I'd wish she would hurry up so that I can hide in the safety of the car. But her bag has always been a mess of notebooks, sweet wrappers and receipts.

"Poor bugger. It must be shit to lose your leg and have your career ruined. Thank God that's hasn't happened to me," the man then says.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. You never think it's going to happen to you but then suddenly it does and you have to deal with the consequences. The bastard across the road doesn't know how lucky he is. He's taking his fucking leg for granted.

Katniss then lets out a small noise of triumph as she pulls out the car keys and then unlocks the car. I slump in as quickly as possible and slam the door, the couple's words still ringing through my head.

* * *

The car ride back to the house is silent and neither of us speak as we go into the house. I go through to the living room without looking at Katniss and slump down on the sofa before turning the TV on. Katniss follows me through quietly and stands behind me.

"Can I get you anything?" she asks.

"I can get it myself if I need anything. I don't need you babying me," I reply harshly.

I don't turn around to look at her as I start flicking through the channels quickly. Katniss sighs and I think I hear her turn around to leave but then she suddenly storms round and stands right in front of me. She grabs the TV remote out of my hand and shuts it off abruptly.

"Hey! Don't treat me like a child. Give that back to me!" I exclaim.

Katniss shakes her head fiercely at me.

"No. We need to talk. I don't know how much more I can take of this," she says.

That grabs my attention and I lock my eyes onto hers. She looks back at me with a fiery stare. But there is something else in her eyes. Sadness.

"I don't like this version of you. And before you accuse me of anything it's not the version of you that doesn't have a leg. It's this angry bitter version of you that treats me like crap," she says.

I flick my eyes down feeling uncomfortable with what she is saying.

"The man I fell in love with was kind and able to make fun of himself and I've seen none of that in so long. It's breaking my heart," she says.

I look back up at her when I hear her sniff back a tear.

"I understand that when you lost your leg that you lost a huge part of your identity. And I understand that you're angry and frustrated at yourself and the world as a result but you can't keep taking it out on me," she adds.

I don't know what to say because everything she says sounds right. I hate seeing her upset but I can't see how to put it right.

"I never expected you to be okay about it straight away but right now I'm struggling to see it getting better. I want to help you but right now you won't let me. And it's killing me, Peeta. Because if things don't improve then I can't be around you. I'll just be unhappy," she says.

She sniffs back another tear and my heart drops in my chest. I might hate my life right now but I never thought she would actually consider leaving. The thought of her going makes me feel physically sick. I've already lost tennis. I couldn't lose her.

I know I need to say something but I'm terrified that it's going to come wrong. Nothing I've said to Katniss in the last few months has come out right.

"I don't want you to go," I say.

Katniss sniffs again.

"Then you need to do something to change things because right now neither of us are happy," she replies.

She then wipes back a tear and gets up to leave. I'm left sitting alone and for the first time feeling really ashamed of the way I have been acting.

* * *

Katniss' words play over and over again in my head. The threat of losing her has suddenly brought everything into the light. She's not been happy either since the accident.

I tell myself to list all the times I've snapped and been unfair to her since the surgery but I quickly grow despondent when I realise just how many times I've been shitty to her. Most of the time she hasn't done anything wrong but I needed someone to lash out my anger on to. It's disheartening and Katniss didn't deserve it.

I don't want to keep making her cry. I don't want to make her feel crap and to keep arguing with her. I need help fixing things. So I swallow my pride and phone my therapist. I can't go on like this.

My therapist is surprised when I call to make an extra appointment. I have only ever attended once a week up until now, even when the therapist suggested I might want to do more. But I've not really opened up to him until now. I already feel weak and don't want to be made to feel weaker as I spill my guts out to this guy. Plus he still has two legs. I find it hard to believe he could empathise with me. I've spent most of my sessions with him not even looking in his direction and giving answers that were no more than five words. But maybe that's been a mistake.

I sit down more nervously in his office than I have ever had before. He smiles kindly at me as he makes himself comfortable.

"I have to say Peeta I'm very pleased that you took the initiative to book an appointment today. I see it as a good sign," Dr Aurelius says.

My hands are sweaty and I try to wipe them on the sofa.

"It's been the first time I actually want to talk to you," I reply.

Dr Aurelius smiles.

"That's good to hear," he says. "Can I ask what it is you want to talk to me about?"

I look him directly in the eye for what I think is the first time before I answer.

"Katniss," I reply. "I'm making her sad."

Dr Aurelius nods his head.

"What makes you think that?" he asks.

"Because she told me and I suddenly realised just how shit I've been to her," I say.

"Things are rarely as bad as they seem. What are you doing that has been shit to her?" he asks.

The therapist doesn't blink as he hears me swear and then swears himself. For some reason it makes me trust him more. It feels like he isn't judging me.

"I pick fights with her. Snap at her when she's just trying to help. We've argued more in the last four months than we had in the first five years of our relationship," I say.

"That must be hard. What do you think is causing all these arguments now? What's changed?" Dr Aurelius says.

I hang my head in shame as I pick at my nails.

"Me," I admit. "I'm angry so much now and I take it out on her."

"And why do you think you take it out on her?" he says.

"Because she is always nearest. It's the easiest thing to do," I reply.

Dr Aurelius pauses to scribble something down on his pad.

"We often lash out at the people we are closest to because we know that their love is more unconditional. Do you fear Katniss will leave you if this carries on?" he says.

I duck my head again.

"I used to think there was nothing that could break us apart but I'm not so sure right now. I'm a different person now," I reply.

"Most people change throughout life. That's not always a bad thing. In what ways are you different?" Dr Aurelius says.

"Well I obviously don't have a leg anymore. I can't play tennis," I say.

Dr Aurelius raises his eyebrows at me.

"Do you really think Katniss cares about those things?" he says.

I shake my head still not looking at the doctor. The next part is harder to admit.

"I'm angrier. Bitter. That's what she cares about," I admit.

The doctor nods his head at me.

"We've talked about your anger before and the reasons behind it. Do you think it helps you?" he asks.

I shake my head.

"It's pushing people away. The person I was before the accident would hate this version of me. But the longer I'm angry the easier it is for the dark thoughts to take hold. It becomes harder to see the positives," I say.

"You don't need to be angry for the rest of your life, Peeta. There are positives in your life and I'm here to help you see them. The first positive you need to think about is Katniss. From everything you have said in your sessions she loves you very much. That's a great thing," Dr Aurelius says.

I nod my head as I finally look back up at Dr Aurelius.

"I guess I need help remembering that. But I'm screwing it up," I reply.

Dr Aurelius smiles kindly at me.

"I think I can help you with that," he replies.

I smile back feeling the most relaxed I have ever in his presence. His smile is just the right amount of encouraging without being patronising and it gives me a little bit of hope. I sink back into the sofa as Dr Aurelius asks me more questions.

We then spend the remainder of the session talking about Katniss. I tell him how we met and the things that made me fall in love with her. I've always liked talking about Katniss but it does cause a small ache in my heart as I retell it. It reminds me of the time before. I don't have any good memories with her since the accident happened and that can't go on. I need to try and do something good.

The end of the session seems to come too quickly. After months of not really communicating with the doctor I find that I have now loads to say. It seems wrong that I have to leave when I have finally made a break through but I have no choice. Just before I leave Dr Aurelius gives me a couple of tips on how to control my angry thoughts and for the first time I come away promising I will try them out.

"That was really good today, Peeta. I feel like I'm finally getting to know the real you," Dr Aurelius says.

"I'm not even sure who the real me is anymore," I admit.

Dr Aurelius nods his head.

"You don't know how to love yourself anymore. That's one of the reasons you snap at Katniss because you can't understand how she can love you when you can't. We have a lot of work to do, Peeta, but you are definitely not a lost cause," he says.

I smile at him in thanks and turn to leave feeling a little bit better than I did when I came in.

* * *

I know I have some serious making up to do with Katniss so I ask the taxi to drop me off at the local supermarket. I grab some ingredients to make her favourite dish, lamb stew with plums, and a couple of lavender smelling candles with the intention of cooking her dinner tonight. It's no way near enough to fix everything but I haven't done one thing to show her I care since the accident and this can be a start.

Annoyingly I have to call another taxi to drive me the two minutes to my house but at least the driver offers to help me with the shopping bags so I don't have to look like an idiot trying to negotiate carrying the bags with my crutches. I give the taxi driver a big tip and dump all the ingredients on the kitchen counter. Katniss has gone into work at the radio station today so I have plenty of time to prepare this surprise for her.

I've just put the stew in the oven when Haymitch calls round. I'm surprised because he didn't call ahead but take him through to the living room. I take off my prosthetic once I have sat on the sofa and rub the end of my stump. I spent a long time standing in that kitchen with it on and it's a relief to take it off now. Haymitch tips his head towards it as he makes himself a drink.

"So you're getting used to it now?" he asks.

I shrug my shoulder as I continue to rub.

"I still can't walk without an aid but I think that's got more to do with what's going on in my head rather than the leg," I reply.

Haymitch raises his eyebrow at me as he brings his drink to sit opposite me.

"I didn't actually think you'd admit that," he says.

"I had a good session with my therapist today. I've finally started to realise that all these dark thoughts aren't helping me," I say.

Haymitch smiles at me.

"That's good. I've not liked seeing you so angry. I've you've treated Katniss like crap," he replies.

I hang my head in shame.

"I know. I need to change though it's not going to be easy," I say.

Haymitch nods his head.

"Nothing ever is. But you've always been a good kid, Peeta. You just need to find that boy again," he says.

I nod my head and then we sit silently as Haymitch sips on his drink quickly. When he gets to the end of the glass I turn to him.

"Why are you here? You're not normally one for unannounced social calls," I say.

Haymitch stares at the bottom of his glass as he twirls it around in his hand.

"I need to talk to you about something but it's not something I'm going to enjoy telling you," he says.

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion and wait for him to expand further.

"It's been great that you have continued to pay my wage but I can't keep taking your money when I'm not doing any work for you," he adds.

I hang my head in sadness. I've been paying Haymitch to be my coach for the last three years. We work on a year by year contract so when I had my accident I had carried on paying him even though he was no longer able to coach me. I hadn't really thought what would happen at the end of the year when his contract would be up but it looks like Haymitch is bringing it up a couple of months early.

I don't say anything so Haymitch carries on.

"Marvel has recently parted with his coach and has asked me to come on board. He wants me in place for the start of off season training next month," he says.

My immediate reaction is anger again. Anger that Haymitch is abandoning me. We've been together for the last three years and all my best successes have been with him. But Haymitch was more than my coach. He was my friend, another father figure type. He is a grumpy bastard but he would be the first to join in with the pranks I played on Cato. And now he's just leaving me. It won't be long before other people leave me too.

I clench my fists at my side but remember Dr Aurelius' challenge for me. He told me to count to ten whenever angry thoughts appear before I say anything. So before I open my mouth and say something I regret I count to ten in my head. And then something amazing happens. As I count the rational part of my brain begins to float through. It tells me that Haymitch doesn't have a choice. I no longer need him to coach me and he looks genuinely upset about breaking this news to me. This was always going to have to end and I can't blame Haymitch for that.

By the time I've got to ten the angry thoughts have subsided and I don't feel like snapping back in response. Instead I take a deep breath before answering.

"You should accept him. His forehand might be weak but he has a killer cross court backhand. I hated running after that thing," I reply.

Haymitch chuckles.

"Yeah you really were shit at dealing with that. It's the reason you lost in Paris last year," he says.

We share a smile and then there is a moment of silence.

"I'm going to miss you. You were one hell of a player and my biggest regret in life is always going to be not helping you get that Wimbledon trophy," he says.

My eyes begin to water but I try not to get angry at the fact I can't play tennis any more.

"We were a good team," I reply.

Haymitch nods his head.

"Yeah. You had just the right amount of arrogance. Enough to help you win games but still enough modesty that you weren't a dick off the court. I've never had a player work as hard as you though your jokes are not as funny as you think," he says with a smile.

I laugh.

"And you're not as grumpy as you think. Effie is making you soft," I say.

Haymitch gives me a weak smile as he looks back at his empty glass.

"She's quite a woman," he says. "But that needs to come to an end as well."

I scrunch up my eyebrows in confusion.

"Why would you do that? I think she is pretty crazy about you," I reply.

"I can't be on the tour and have a partner waiting back home. I'm going to need to put all my efforts into helping Marvel and am barely going to be in same place for more than a week. It never works. Better to end it now than six months later after she has got pissed because I have disappointed her again," he says.

I look at him sympathetically. Life on the tour is tough if you have a partner. You are constantly travelling and so often have to be completely focused on tennis that you don't have time for anyone else. I was lucky that Katniss was so understanding while I was playing and we both completely trusted each other but I know so many other relationships on the tour that disintegrated.

"Effie is going to be heart broken," I reply.

Haymitch nods his head as he looks sombrely at the bottom of his glass.

"I know," he says.

* * *

Haymitch doesn't stay much longer after that and I go and check on the stew. It's cooking nicely so I hobble about on my crutches as I try to set the table and use the candles to make it a bit more romantic. I'm just pulling the stew out the oven when Katniss walks in. She sighs heavily as she dumps her bag in the hallway and makes her way to the kitchen but her eyes widen when she sees what I have set up.

"What's this?" she asks.

I smile apologetically as I hop round to face her and lean against one of my crutches.

"My first pathetic attempt to apologise for everything," I say. "I made us lamb stew."

Katniss' stomach grumbles at the mention of it and her eyes immediately zone in on the steaming plates. But eventually she pulls her eyes back to me.

"And what exactly are you apologising for?" she asks.

She has her guard up, not that I blame her, and I know I have my work cut out to make it up to her. But I can't lose her and I am determined to drastically change my attitude.

"For treating you like crap these last few months. I keep snapping at you for things that aren't your fault. I've barely told you that I love you," I reply.

Katniss looks away from me but I touch her chin to get her to look at me again. I try to summon every positive emotion I have for her in that one look.

"I do love you. I love you so much and I hate that I've made you cry," I say.

Katniss continues to stare back at me and I have so much more to say to her.

"I've become the person I never wanted to be. You're right that I'm always angry and bitter now and that I only focus on the negatives. Because even though my life has changed beyond recognition there is still one big positive in my life. It's you, Katniss," I say.

Katniss softens just ever so slightly and it gives me the confidence to carry on. I gently brush a strand of her face and I look down at her fondly.

"You've done so much for me since the accident and I've never said thank you. So thank you for everything you have done. Thank you for trying to hold everything together when I've been falling apart. I don't want to carry on the way I have, Katniss. You don't deserve it," I say.

Katniss sighs.

"These last few months have been so hard, Peeta. I'm emotionally exhausted. Something needs to change or I won't be able to handle it anymore," she replies.

"I know. And I'm going to really try to behave better. I've booked more sessions with Dr Aurelius and I'm going to try and sort my head out. It might take a while and I may still snap at you occasionally but please call me out on it if I do. Don't let me get away with treating you badly," I say.

Katniss sighs as she reaches up to brush a curl back.

"Deal. I trust you to try and make things better," she says.

I let out a sigh of relief and then lean down to press my forehead against hers. My hand reaches up to brush the side of her cheek.

"I thought tennis was my whole world, but I was wrong. It's you," I say.

Katniss wraps her arms around my waist and squeezes me tight.

"I miss you," she says. "I know that sounds strange when we have spent more time than ever in each other's presence but I've missed you."

I squeeze her back and place a kiss on top of her head.

"I've missed us," I reply. "I'm sorry again for everything. I love you."

Katniss smiles into my chest.

"I love you too," she says.

* * *

 **A/N: This was a big chapter for Peeta emotionally. He's not going to me magically better in the next chapter but it is a start. Thanks to everyone who is reading his journey.**


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

Dr Aurelius smiles at me from across the room. It doesn't take me long to get comfortable on the sofa eager to start my session today.

"You look well today. How did you do with my little homework assignment I set you?" Dr Aurelius asks.

I take a deep breath as I dig into my pocket and pull out a neatly folded bit of paper. I carefully unfold it and smooth it out against my leg.

"It took a while but I managed to get a few things," I reply.

Dr Aurelius nods his head encouragingly. In the last six weeks he has tried to help me think more positively about my situation and in my last session challenged me to write a list of five things I've got to look forward to in the future. I struggled at first to write anything down. Nearly all my goals before the accident involved tennis so it took a little while to refocus my thinking.

"I'm looking forward to hearing what you thought," Dr Aurelius says.

I nod my head and look back down at my list. I actually find myself smiling at all the things on it. The list might not include winning Wimbledon or becoming the world number one player but everything on the list excites me.

"Being able to walk everywhere without a crutch," I start. "Giving the best man speech at one of my brothers' weddings. Seeing my dad get emotional during his speech at my parents' thirtieth wedding anniversary next year. Watching Katniss walk down the aisle. Holding my child in my arms for the first time."

"That's a really good list. You smiled the entire time you read it out," Dr Aurelius says.

"I suddenly realised that I was more than tennis once I started writing it. Apart from the walking thing I had all these things to look forward to before the accident. And they were always more important than the tennis things. Because my tennis career was always going to end at some point but my family are always going to be around," I reply.

Dr Aurelius smiles broadly.

"You're right. Tennis doesn't have to define you. Just like losing your leg doesn't have to define you now," he replies.

"I think I'm finally beginning to get that," I say.

We then share a smile before Dr Aurelius writes something down. Once he's finished scribbling he looks back at me.

"Let's talk about the first thing on your list. How's your rehab going?" He asks.

I let out a sigh as I start picking at a thread on my hoodie.

"I still can't walk without holding onto something. I've got the balance but I just can't seem to master the co-ordination. I find it so hard to keep positive in the sessions," I admit.

"Can you actually imagine yourself walking confidently on your prosthetic?" he asks.

I pause to think and try to conjure up an image of me walking with it. I focus on imagining all the things I've got to look forward to. I see a room of people laughing as I tell a joke at Bran's wedding. I imagine wiping back a tear when I hear Dad talk so fondly of Mum and imagine myself beaming with pride as I see Katniss walk towards me in a white dress. But I suddenly realise that in every image I'm standing, not moving. When I picture myself moving with the prosthetic it becomes a lot harder to picture.

I duck my head down as I twirl the loose thread around my finger.

"No. I still find it hard to picture myself like that," I reply.

Dr Aurelius nods his head.

"You have come a long way in the last few weeks and realising tennis doesn't define you is a huge step. But there is still part of you clinging onto your old self. I'm not sure you will be able to walk confidently until you let it go completely," he says.

"But how do I do that? I want to walk and to start moving on with my life," I ask.

"Keep doing what you are doing. Keep visualising the future, particularly walking in it. The more you imagine your future self the more comfortable you will be with it," he replies.

I sigh heavily as I lean back into the sofa. I wish I could just snap my fingers and be okay but nothing since the accident has been easy.

* * *

Christmas is just around the corner and there is a sharp cold in the air today. I wrap my coat tight around me before stepping out the therapist's office. The cold weather makes it harder to walk on my leg so I grip onto my crutch as I try to navigate myself to the car. Katniss waits for me there so she can accompany me to my rehab session with Cressida. I smile broadly at her as I get in and thread my crutch between the seats to put it in the back. I then lean across to give her a kiss. Her hand reaches up to hold me in place a little longer and we're smiling when we pull back.

"I feel like I haven't seen that smile in a while," she says.

I smile again and shrug my shoulder.

"I just realised that I've still got a lot to look forward to," I reply.

Katniss raises her eyebrow at me.

"I hope I'm in this future you are looking forward to," she says.

"You feature heavily," I reply.

Katniss smiles back at me before turning the keys in the ignition and driving off. She doesn't press me to start talking about the session straight away but I find I'm much more eager to open up to her today.

I've tried really hard these last few weeks to be a better boyfriend to her. I've tried to remember all the little things I used to do before the accident to show her how much I cared. I'm remembering to kiss her when we leave and to give her a cuddle in bed. I've made a playlist of her favourite songs which she can listen to on the commute to work and make her a cup of tea as soon as she gets in from a busy day. I had lost all of that just after the accident.

I'm not perfect. Only a couple of days ago I had a bad rehab session and shouted at her when we got home for buying the wrong kind of cheese. But I recognise now when I'm being unfair to her and these incidents have gotten less and less. I know that I can't get through any of this without her support.

Katniss is also a lot better at letting me be independent and doesn't hover around me as I get out the car. She gives me an encouraging smile and we walk into the rehab centre together.

Cressida is waiting as usual with a big smile on her face.

"We're almost there with the walking, Peeta. You're going to crack it soon," she says.

"I really hope so. I need to believe I can do it," I reply.

Cressida smiles and nods her head before we get everything set up for the session. I'm soon standing between the parallel bars I have grown to hate with Cressida by my side. She checks that my posture is okay and then tasks me of walking the length of the bars holding on with one hand. I've been able to do this for a couple of weeks now and I'm pretty confident. It's the next step that seems so hard.

"That's good. Your co-ordination was a lot better today. I think we can try with no hands," she says.

I nod my head and let out a breath. I glance over to Katniss who sits watching my progress and she gives me an encouraging nod.

"Believe in yourself," she says.

I nod my head and turn back to face forward. I get my posture correct again and take a deep breath. Slowly I let go of the bar with my hand and make sure I've got my balance. Once I feel steady I look down at my feet and put my good foot forward. The first step goes okay and Cressida uses words of encouragement from beside me. I take my time as I make my next step but as I try to place it down I get my co-ordination wrong again and place my artificial foot too far forward. I lose my balance quickly and have to quickly grasp the bars as I fall.

Katniss jerks forward from her spot as she sees me tumble but I stop her with a scowl.

"Don't help me," I snap. "I'm not a fragile doll."

Katniss sits back down and I resist even Cressida's attempts to help me up. I pull myself back up and get back into position. I quickly turn back to Katniss.

"I'm sorry for snapping. I just need to do this myself," I say.

Katniss nods in understanding and I take another deep breath as I face forward. I want to crack this walking thing today. And I need to follow Dr Aurelius' suggestion. Before I move a foot I picture myself walking along these bars without holding on. It takes me a minute to be able to picture it clearly but once I do I can't help but smile. I can almost feel the pride and joy of achieving it. I want that feeling.

I straighten up and take my hands off the bar. Cressida gives me some tips to help with my co-ordination and I'm soon ready to go. With a new sense of determination I move my good foot forward and begin to walk.

I keep picture myself walking without an aid and it makes it easier to move my artificial foot. I focus only on the movement of my feet and suddenly I find that I'm walking. I'm going slowly but each foot is going in front of the other and I'm moving forward. Katniss and Cressida are shouting words of encouragement but I don't really hear them. I'm concentrating too hard. I keep going without falling and my smile starts to get wider. And then suddenly I'm at the end.

I can't quite believe it and relief rushes through my like a flood. I turn back to look at where I've come from and feel almost giddy with joy.

"I did it. I walked!" I say in disbelief.

Cressida smiles proudly at me and slaps me on the shoulder.

"You did. It was great to see," she replies.

Katniss then slowly approaches me, beaming. I smile back at her and reach out for her waist. She steps into my hold and reaches up to tuck a curl behind my ear.

"I'm so proud of you," she says.

"I'm proud of myself," I reply. "I'm sorry I've been a grumpy bastard as I have tried to get here."

Katniss smiles at me and steps on her toes to give me a quick kiss.

"It's all worth it to see you walk now," she says. "But you better get back there quick. You know your mum will want a video of this."

I laugh as Katniss steps away and Cressida agrees that I should do it a few more times. But for the first time those parallel bars don't look intimidating. I conquered them and life is only going to get better from here.

I manage to walk unaided quite a few more times by the end of the session and I gain confidence with every foot I put forward. Cressida gives me a massive congratulations at the end but my work with her is still far from done. I've still got to master walking up stairs and be able to carry things while on my prosthetic leg but it all seems a bit easier now I have mastered this.

We send a video of my walking to all our close family and friends and Mum is the first person on the phone but I can barely make out what she is saying through all the tears of happiness. The messages come pouring through and for once I want to read them. I don't feel like people are pitying me this time and my heart swells when I read everyone's pride in me.

Katniss and I are almost deliriously happy when we get back to our house and we both collapse onto the sofa with beaming smiles. My leg is sore though from so much work today so I take it off before pulling Katniss to me. My back falls back as Katniss leans on top of me and I reach up to brush a strand of hair off her face.

"I love you. I couldn't have done this without you," I say.

Katniss smiles sweetly back at me as she slides her hand around my neck.

"I always knew you were strong. You just needed to believe it yourself," she says.

"Well thank you for believing in me," I reply.

Katniss smiles again as the tips of her fingers gently begin massaging the back of my head. It's been so long since we have been in a position like this and I savour the feel of her. My arms slide up her back and press her closer to me. Katniss' face comes nearer to mine and I reach up to nuzzle my nose against hers. My heart beats rapidly in my chest and our lips hover over each other, not quite touching until I press up and lock my lips onto hers. Katniss gasps as she opens her mouth and slides her tongue in. My tongue eagerly reaches out to tangle with hers while her hands slide down my chest. I squeeze her tight as our kisses get fiercer and our hands begin to dip lower. Katniss whimpers as my hands sweep over her jean covered arse and her hands then graze past my cock. I quickly become too hot in my hoodie and sit up to remove it. Katniss helps me get it over my head and I grin up at her just as the doorbell rings.

Katniss sighs as she looks towards the door and I hang my head.

"We should probably stop. It's probably your Mum with balloons and a cake," Katniss says.

I nod my head, gutted our little make out session has been cut short, and Katniss moves to get off me. But I grab her wrist and pull her back for one last kiss. She lets out a little yelp but soon sinks into my kiss and my hand brushes down the side of her cheek when we pull away.

"I've missed this, Katniss. You're amazing" I say.

Katniss grins and plants a quick kiss on my lips before jumping off me. The doorbell rings again and she rushes to look at the security camera. I can't be bothered to put my leg back on so I wait patiently for Katniss to bring through whoever is at the door.

It's not my mother but Effie that has brought balloons and a cake. She has a massive smile on her face and bends down to throw her arms around me.

"Congratulations, Peeta! I cried when I saw the video!" she exclaims.

"Thanks, Effie. I have to say it's a big relief," I reply.

Effie nods her head as she takes a seat opposite me.

"Just such a shame that Haymitch didn't have the decency to stick around to see you walking," she says.

Haymitch left about a month ago, breaking up with Effie before he left. She's tried to put on a brave face about it but we all know his leaving devastated her. Right now she is in the angry stage, taking every opportunity to slag Haymitch off even when he hasn't been mentioned at all.

Katniss sits back down beside me and I place a kiss on her temple as I slide an arm around her waist. Effie asks me lots of questions about today's session and what my next steps in rehab are. Katniss gets up to make everyone a cup of tea and to cut the cake and Effie licks the fork clean once she has eaten it.

"I know it's bad for me but Sae really does the best cakes," she muses.

"I see now. This cake wasn't for me at all. You just wanted an excuse to eat it," I say.

Effie laughs as she puts the fork down and picks up her tea.

"I'm just taking a lead out of Katniss' book," Effie replies.

She shares a grin with Katniss and lets out a satisfied sigh after she has taken a sip of tea.

"I'm just so happy to see you better, Peeta. I've missed that smile," she says.

I rub the muscles in my cheek.

"Yeah. My cheek muscles are getting sore after months of inaction," I reply.

Effie laughs and Katniss smiles at me as she slides her arm through mine.

"He's so much more handsome with a smile," Katniss says looking up at me.

"I totally agree!" Effie replies. "That smile helped him get many female followers."

She then takes another sip of tea before placing it back down on the coffee table.

"Which brings me to something that I know you don't want to talk about," she says.

I frown as I'm not sure what she's talking about.

"I know you don't want anything to do with your social media at the moment and have given me complete control but I have been posting things from time to time. Your followers go crazy if I don't post anything for a while. Your DMs are filled with panicked messages asking if everything is okay and wanting to know your progress. It's quite overwhelming," she says.

My mood sours slightly at the mention of my social media.

"What are you trying to ask me, Effie?" I ask.

I wish she would just get to the point. I honestly don't care about my social media right now. I don't want to have to share my recovery process with the whole world. It's a private thing and I don't owe my so called followers anything.

"I think it would be a good idea to post the video of you walking on Instagram. You achieved a great thing today and your followers would love to see it. That way everyone can see how well you are doing," she replies.

I drop my arm from around Katniss and shake my head fiercely.

"Nope. Not going to happen," I say.

Effie's shoulders sink and she looks down at the ground.

"If you didn't like that then you're really not going to like the next thing. The BBC contacted me yesterday asking for an update. It's the BBC Sports Personality of the year at the weekend and they wanted to do a short feature on you," she replies.

"Definitely not. I'm finally thinking more positively and don't need to be reminded what I had in the past," I say.

Effie sighs but nods her head.

"I like to see you as my friend, Peeta, but I'm also your publicist. It's my job to advise you on these things. If you don't want a video, then maybe just a picture with a message attached saying how you are now walking. And as for the BBC I could tell them no to the feature but allow them to talk about you in a couple of sentences," she suggests.

I shake my head again.

"No, Effie. I don't want to be in the public eye anymore. If I am then I'm just going to be seen as that poor tennis player that lost his leg. I don't want to be viewed that way. I'm only just starting to not view myself that way," I reply.

Katniss reaches out to rub soothing circles on my arm.

"I totally understand that but right now you are still in the public eye. The public haven't forgotten who you are yet. Effie is the one dealing with all the public reaction surrounding you. She's just trying to do something to make it better," Katniss says.

I sigh hating that we are having this conversation. Why do the public need to know how I'm doing? Most of them only cared about me when Wimbledon came around. I shouldn't have to share my life with them.

"I just want to enjoy what I achieved today for a while. I don't want to have to think about what the public think just yet. Can you understand that?" I ask.

I look up at Effie and she nods head.

"You can have a few days. But I really think we should release something about your recovery. I don't think they'll stop asking until they get answers," she replies.

I sigh hating the fact that the public can dictate parts of my life.

* * *

Over the next couple of days, I grow in confidence using walking on my prosthetic and only use my crutch to help me get up the stairs. I feel like I have got a new sense of freedom and my mood is brighter as a result. It becomes easier to be affectionate towards Katniss and there are a couple of heavy make out sessions as we head towards the weekend. I even agree to Effie releasing a short statement to the press stating that I am now walking confidently on a prosthetic. I don't go anywhere near online or newspapers after it is released. I'm quite happy living in my own little bubble.

With my good mood, Katniss suggests that we host a small Christmas party as a way to celebrate everything. I agree and don't actually dread it happening.

My brothers come round to help with the decorations and Rye in particular goes over the top. Tinsel seems to hang from everywhere. Coloured fairy lights are also struck up and there is a Christmas laser light show that we can sync with the music. Mum makes dozens of mince pies and gingerbread men and Rye drags a snow machine into the living room. I think even Santa would think this too much.

Katniss comes down wearing a pair of jeans and red Christmas jumper with a light up Rudolph on it. I'm also wearing a blue Christmas jumper with a dancing penguin that Rye gave me as a joke last Christmas. Katniss smiles as she comes over for a kiss and I sigh as I put my arms around her waist.

"Only you could look this hot in this ridiculous jumper," I say, plucking at Rudolph's shiny red nose.

"It was a hard choice between this one and the one with the singing Christmas tree," she replies with a grin.

I laugh and then bend down for another kiss but we are interrupted by Madge bounding over to us.

"You guys look so adorable. I need a picture," she says.

I roll my eyes but allow Katniss to tuck into my side as we smile for the camera. Madge spends a few moments taking pictures from different angles and fiddles about with the different filters.

"Please don't put any pictures of me on Instagram. I really don't want the scrutiny," I say.

Madge shrugs her shoulder and stuffs her phone back in her bra.

"I get that. I can send you the picture though. You guys look adorable together. It would make a good Christmas card for next year," she replies.

"Thanks, Madge. You look great tonight as well," Katniss says.

Madge really does. She wears a sparkly gold mini skirt paired with a simple black t-shirt but it shows of her slender figure perfectly. She's curled her golden hair so it falls down her back and has added glitter around her eyes to make them stand out more than usual. Rye is going to find it hard to resist her tonight.

As if he can sense a hot girl, Rye comes sauntering over and slings an arm around Madge.

"I'm glad somebody at this party decided to dress up. Christmas jumpers are an actual sin on a hot girl," he says.

Madge rolls her eyes.

"I know you've ended things with Lavinia and are just looking to get your dick wet again," she replies.

"I love it when you talk dirty to me, Madge. It's Christmas! It's all about the time of giving. What a better way to celebrate the birth of Jesus than with a cheeky shag?" Rye says with a wink.

Madge shakes her head.

"I've not had enough drink yet for this conversation. And I'm not falling for your shit tonight, Rye. I think you are just going to have to make do with your hand tonight," she says.

She then ducks out of Rye's hold and walks off to the drinks table. She meets Bran there and he smiles as he hands her a drink. I shake my head at Rye.

"I thought you were over messing about with Madge," I say.

Rye shrugs he shoulder.

"I was. But I forget just how fucking hot she is. And the sex is so fucking good," he says.

"Madge deserves so much better than you," Katniss says.

"Madge is a party girl just as much as I am. All this that she wants to settle down and have a real relationship is bullshit. She's not ready for that yet. At least I'm honest about it," Rye replies.

Katniss shakes her head but turns to check on Madge who is now laughing with Bran. Rye is right that Madge does love a party. Her Instagram is full of pictures of her on nights out and she loves dancing until the small hours of the morning.

"Madge has more will power than you know. Don't underestimate her," she says.

Rye grins broadly.

"I wouldn't ever," he replies with a cheeky smile.

Katniss keeps half an eye on Madge for most of the evening and easily lets Madge drag her onto the dance floor for Mariah Carey and Shakin Stevens. Madge has always been good at getting people to dance and while she does spend some time dancing closely with Rye she also seems to spend an equal amount of time dancing with Bran so neither of us are worried too much.

All our close friends and family come to the party and it's the first social event since the accident that I actually enjoy. It helps that I made a break through in rehab this week and don't have to use my crutches. I can walk about the party and with my prosthetic hidden underneath my jeans I look just like everyone else. And now I'm walking people have stopped looking at me like I'm wounded. I laugh more than I have in months and I even sing in full voice when Wizard's _I Wish it Could be Christmas Everyday_ plays.

As everyone is in such a good mood it takes a while to kick everyone out of the house. My brothers and Madge are the last to leave and Madge throws her arms around me before she goes. She's even more unsteady on her feet due to the half dozen gin and tonics she's had and I have to stick my arm out quickly to balance us both against the door frame.

"It's been a great party! And it's been so good to see you smiling," she says.

"You certainly livened up the party with your dance moves," I reply.

Madge lets go of me to show me one of the signature dance moves and I can't help but laugh.

"All those years of ballet and tap training really paid off," I say.

Madge swots me on the arm.

"You're becoming cheeky again, Peeta Mellark. I like it," she says.

She then looks quickly over her shoulder at Katniss and Bran who are talking. When she turns back around she steps in closer and lowers her voice to talk to me.

"I'm still taking you Christmas shopping on Tuesday. After the last few months Katniss deserves an amazing present from you," she says.

I nod in agreement.

"Thanks for offering to help me out. Mum offered too but her taste is very different from Katniss," I reply.

Madge grins widely.

"Don't worry. We'll figure out something great. I'll message you arrangements nearer the time," she says.

I nod my head and Madge reaches up to place a kiss on my cheek. She then bounds over to my brothers, placing an arm around each of there waists and asking where they are going to go next.

Katniss comes back over to me, sliding her arm around my waist and resting her head against my shoulder as we shout our last goodbyes and watch them leave. Katniss sighs once the door is closed and slips both arms around my middle to face me fully.

"I gave Bran a mission to keep Madge and Rye away from each other tonight. I've run out of things to say to Madge now after it happens," she says.

I smile as I brush some hair away from her face.

"They are getting very repetitive. But then again maybe we're just being that smug couple that judges any relationship that isn't like ours," I reply.

Katniss laughs.

"We weren't so smug a couple of months ago. I'm glad we've gotten back on track," she says.

"Me too," I say leaning in for a soft kiss. "But can we please go to bed. My leg is killing me."

Katniss smiles as she nods her head and then goes off to find my crutch to help me get up the stairs.

When I finally get up to our bedroom I collapse onto the end of the bed and work quickly to remove my jeans and prosthetic. I let out a long moan after my leg is released and immediately start massaging my stump as soon as I have taken the lining sock off.

"Oh that is so much better," I say.

I continue to rub the stump as Katniss watches me carefully. Tonight has been the longest I've ever spent wearing my prosthetic and it hasn't ached this much before. Quietly Katniss takes off the gaudy Christmas jumper and comes to sit beside me on the bed in her bra. She sits in silence at first as I manage to rub some of the soreness away and then she tentatively reaches out her hand to touch the scarred skin of my stump.

Her hands are cold and I jerk back as soon as her fingertips touch the skin. Katniss pulls her hand back quickly and looks away embarrassed.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," she says.

I shake my head.

"You didn't. It's just that your hands are cold," I say.

She turns back to look at me and shifts a bit nearer.

"Is it okay for me to touch it?" she asks.

I pause for a long moment. No one has touched that part of me apart from the doctors and the physios. It's still not something that I like about myself and I have never had it on display for too long since I got my prosthetic. But when I look at Katniss' face it's not disgust I see but curiosity. Before the accident she knew every inch of my body, probably better than she knew her own and I can sense she wants to learn about this new part of me.

Slowly I nod to let her know it's okay. Katniss rubs her hands together in an effort to warm them up and then reaches her fingers out to trace the skin on my stump.

Her touch is feather light at first and she bends her head to the side to get a better look. I can't bear to look at it myself so I focus on her face and watch as her mind mentally begins mapping my skin there. Her fingertips explore every millimetre of my stump, running over the thick scar where they joined my skin back together and over the sensitive area that has been rubbed by my prosthetic. As I watch her a look of wonder begins to fall across her face and she's smiling as her fingers begin to trail up towards my knee. Her eyes finally flick back up to mine and I know in an instant that she doesn't hate this part of me.

"It's healed so well. I actually don't think you look strange anymore without it," she says.

"I still feel a bit strange," I reply.

Katniss smiles as one hand continues to run over my stump while the other slides up my thigh and then skims up my body. She shifts her body closer to mine so that are noses are only millimetres apart. Her hand then comes up to gently cradle my cheek. The moment feels more intimate than anything we have experienced before.

"I can understand that, Peeta," she says. "But I love all of you. And that includes the parts that you don't like about yourself."

I can only reply with a kiss and I reach up to cup her cheek and keep her close. Katniss reacts immediately, swinging her leg over my waist to straddle me and tangling her fingers in the curls on the back of my neck. We kiss slowly and leisurely, my hand dropping from Katniss' cheek and sliding down the bare skin of her back. Katniss untangles her tongue from mine as she takes my head in her hands and starts placing soft kisses all over my face. She places them over my eyes, my lips, nose and my cheeks while my hands trace swirly patterns on her back. Eventually Katniss' lips make their way more firmly back to mine and she kisses me deeply. My fingertips then dance up her spine as she slowly begins to rock against me.

My fingers inch higher towards her bra strap and in one deft movement I release the clasp and the bra falls down her arms. Katniss smiles at me lovingly as she pulls back briefly to discard the garment completely and then tugs at the hem of my jumper to help me remove it. We pull it over my head together and I only have a moment to savour the sight of Katniss' dark and erect nipples pointing directly at me before she has descended on me for another deep kiss.

This time we fall slowly back against the bed and hands start to wander more freely. Mine move towards Katniss arse to pinch and squeeze it over the fabric of her jeans. Her hands run all over my chest, tracing around my nipples and swirling in my belly button.

The heat in the room rises now as we begin to dry jump on top of the covers. We haven't been this naked with each other since the accident and it excites me and scares me in equal measure. My cock hasn't spurred into action yet but I had been warned this could happen after the surgery. I just clutch her closer to me.

When Katniss shimmies off me to remove her jeans I can't stop staring at her perky breasts and imagine pulling them into my mouth. Katniss smiles sultry at me when she catches me staring at them and then crawls back over to me.

"I know what you want," she says with a wry smile.

She positions her tits right in front of me, in the perfect position for suckling and I lurch forward latch onto them eagerly. Katniss moans as my hands slide up her back and my mouth lavishes her breast. She uses one of her hands to roll and squeeze the breast I'm not giving attention to while the other trails down my side. She grinds down on me harder but my dick still doesn't seem to want to respond.

I pull my lips away from her tit to kiss her fiercely and press her close. She presses down on me too and I keep expecting my dick to spring into action sometime soon. But when Katniss slips her hands beneath my boxer shorts it's still as limp as when we started.

Katniss doesn't say anything as she wraps her hand around it and tries to make me hard. She kisses to the corner of my mouth, along my jaw and then towards my ear. When she gets there she gently tugs my earlobe into her mouth to suckle, something that would normally turn me on instantly. And although I'm hot and sweaty the most important part of my body isn't reacting.

Katniss is still running her hand over my cock but it's just not playing today. I try to focus on the way her breasts swing in front of me and the heat I can feel coming from her core but nothing is working. Slowly my body deflates and I gently pull Katniss' hand away.

"Stop. It's not going to work," I say despondently.

Katniss looks at me sadly as she lies down on top of me and reaches up to run her hands through my hair.

"It's okay, you know. I don't mind. It's the first time we've tried anything like this. There was probably always going to be road blocks," she says.

In my head I know this to be true. My libido was non-existent in the immediate aftermath of the accident and the doctors warned me that some of the drugs could have an effect on it. And Dr Aurelius would probably tell me it has something to do with the fact I still don't feel completely confident in this new version of me. But it's frustrating. I already have a leg that doesn't work. I didn't need my cock failing me too.

I reach up to caress Katniss' cheek.

"It's got nothing to do with you. I wanted you so badly tonight. I'm just a broken body," I reply.

Katniss shakes her head as she leans down to kiss me.

"You're not as broken as you think," she replies. "And even just being able to lie in your arms is enough for me."

I hold her head so I can place a kiss on her forehead.

"I keep asking myself what I did to deserve you," I say.

Katniss smiles at me fondly before I pull her in for a longer kiss. We kiss with no intention to take it further but as my finger skim up and down Katniss back I realise that I can still do something about it. I roll us over so that I'm on top and my hand slides down to the top of Katniss' underwear. My fingers hook into the elastic and begin to tug them down her legs. Katniss looks back at me confused.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"What every good boyfriend should do," I say. "Giving my girlfriend an orgasm."

I lean down to plant kisses down Katniss' neck but she pulls my head back round to look at her.

"You don't have to do this. I'm honestly fine with just falling to sleep together," she says.

I raise my eyebrow at her.

"You've changed, Miss Everdeen. You've never turned down an orgasm before," I reply.

I then lean down to suckle on her pulse point while my hands manipulate her breasts. Katniss groans as my finger flicks over her nipple and she slides her hands in my hair.

"Okay. I'll allow it," she breathes.

I smirk against her skin before pulling back so I can look at her. I want to see every emotion that crosses her face while I pleasure her. I lean down one more time to place a soft kiss on her lips and then sit up so I can watch my handiwork.

My hands start around her collarbone, tracing the length of it and then making their way down to her dusky nipples. My fingers slowly draw circles around each tit, each circle getting smaller and closer to the nipple and Katniss gasps when my thumb brushes over the dark areola. My thumb then goes back to draw tight circles over the erect nipple and I apply more pressure with each rotation. Katniss' breathing gets heavier and her breasts heave in an inviting fashion. Her eyes get darker and pin themselves to the ceiling instead of looking at me. With one last flick of the nipple, Katniss moans and I then give the exact same treatment to the other breast.

With each touch Katniss writhes more against the bed and begins to whimper. I take my time with her tits but when I'm finished playing my hand sweeps down her rib cage and swirls in her belly button.

She's getting impatient now and her hips begin to buck against the bed but I make sure my fingers go slowly to her core. I want to touch every inch of her skin before I get there so I continue to trail my hands over the smooth skin of her stomach.

But Katniss is squirming a lot now and her breath has gotten even heavier.

"Please, Peeta," she whines.

I just smile as I shift round so I can run my hands up and down her legs. Each time my fingers get that little bit higher and closer to where she wants me most but I'm not going to give it to her easily. If my cock is bloody well not going to pleasure her I'm going to make damn sure that my fingers leave her in a whimpering mess.

I inch higher and higher and Katniss' whines get more desperate. I can see her entrance glistening and can't wait to sink my fingers fully into her. I finally reach the top of her legs and I grab the tops of her thighs to spread her legs wider for me. I savour the sight of her so wet by my touch for just a moment before plunging my fingers into her.

Katniss screams in pleasure as I finally enter her and I start off with two fingers moving in and out of her leisurely. I use my thumb to press on her clit and Katniss press her head back into the pillow.

"Look at me, Katniss. I want to see your face," I say as my thumb starts swirling around her clit.

Katniss pulls her eyes from the ceiling to lock onto my own stare. Her stare is so penetrating that it feels like we are completely joined together. I work only on instinct now as I refuse to look anywhere other than her face. I add another finger inside of her without breaking pace and then my thumb moves on her clit harder. Katniss doesn't let go of my stare as she starts to ride my hand with increasing speed and then uses one hand to slide down and play with her breast. She then reaches out her free hand to link with mine and we wrap our fingers around each other's as she races to her peak. I stop using my thumb to toy with her clit and instead slide my fingers in even deeper. I know the exact spot I'm looking for and I use all three fingers inside of her to press down on it firmly. That's all it takes for me to feel her walls contract around me and Katniss comes calling my name.

I keep pumping my fingers into her as she rides her orgasm and wipe them on the bedcovers after I have pulled them out. Katniss looks exhausted but she puts her arms out for me. I crawl into her embrace with a smile and place a kiss by her ear. Katniss smiles too as she wraps her arms around me tight and snuggles close into me.

"Thank you," she says. "You make me so happy."

I give her a little squeeze.

"You're the person that made me see that I can be happy again," I reply.

* * *

 **It would good to write some happier moments in this chapter! I hope you enjoyed them. Peeta made some big strides in this chapter but it's not always going to be easy.**


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7_

The doorbell goes and I reluctantly pull myself off the couch to answer it. I've not had the best morning. The phantom pains in my leg are in full force today and every task feels like it requires a monumental effort. I've had fewer of these days since Christmas but with the anniversary of my accident creeping up they are becoming more frequent again.

I'm wearing a ratty t-shirt and shorts that I'm pretty sure haven't been washed in a while and have spent my entire day so far watching crappy daytime TV. I know who will be on the other side of the door and I do not have the energy to face either of them.

Just as I was expecting, Mum and Effie bustle into my house, their arms full of carrier bags and faces full of smiles. They chatter all the way to the kitchen to put the carrier bags down and their high pitched voices are already giving me a headache.

Mum begins unpacking all the bags she has brought while Effie puts on the kettle. The bags are filled with high fibre and protein foods such as beans, broccoli and eggs. I shake my head as I pick up some kale.

"Katniss and I do our own shopping you know," I say.

"Oh, I know but now you are done with rehab we need to start building up your strength again. These foods are all good for building back your muscles," Mum replies.

I take a deep breath and count to ten in my head. I hate when Mum fusses over me but Dr Aurelius has helped me see that it all comes from a place of love. She doesn't deserve to be snapped at and I need to find a calm way to put across my point.

I reach ten and then gently touch Mum's elbow to get her to stop loading stuff into the fridge.

"I appreciate the thought, Mum, but I've always eaten high protein food anyway because it helped when I was playing tennis. I've got this," I say.

Mum stops stocking the fridge and turns to stroke a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Okay. But I'm sending you some recipes I found online. I just want you to be fit and healthy again," she replies.

I smile and nod my head but then Mum looks at me concerned.

"How are you feeling today, anyway? You don't look like you have a lot of energy," she asks.

I sigh as I slump down on a nearby chair. I rub my knee in a feeble attempt to rid the phantom pains in my leg.

"It's not a good day," I admit.

This was one of the hardest things I've had to learn with Dr Aurelius. It doesn't help me to pretend to be fine when I'm not. There are still bad days when I have no motivation to do anything. Dr Aurelius has taught me that I need to be honest about these days otherwise I won't be able to help myself.

Mum smiles at me sympathetically as she takes a seat beside me. She puts her arms around my shoulder and rubs soothing circles on it. Effie then comes over and places steaming cups of tea in front of us.

"What do you need us to do?" Mum asks.

I shrug my shoulder as I reach out for the tea.

"The tea is a good start. Just don't expect a lot of conversation from me today," I reply.

"Oh that's not a problem for us! You know your mum and I love to talk. We're quite happy to talk for all three of us!" Effie says.

I give Effie a small smile before she starts jabbering about this new yoga class she is attending and how this one woman always turns up late and ends up knocking people over as she rushes to the back. Mum joins in the conversation too comparing it to the spin class she attends but I just stay silent. I appreciate that they are trying to distract me but all I really want to do is crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head.

Eventually they run out of small talk and I know I'm going to be forced to listen to the real reason they both came here.

Effie finishes the last of her tea and turns to look at me with a slightly nervous smile.

"I'm still dealing with all your fan mail. There has been a spike in post with Wimbledon fast approaching but I've got our stock response down now," she says.

"Thanks, Effie. I find the fan mail all overwhelming," I reply.

Effie nods her head and then quickly glances at my mum as if for extra support.

"I did get a bit of mail for you that I thought I better bring to your attention. It was from the Wimbledon committee. They've invited you to sit in the Royal Box on the middle Saturday," she says.

I freeze and it takes a while for this news to fully sink in. Wimbledon starts again in just over a week and I have done my best to ignore all the build-up. The Royal Box is always filled with sportsmen and sportswomen from various sports on the middle Saturday. I haven't felt like a sport person in a very long time so it hadn't even crossed my mind that I would be invited. It doesn't take long after that for the dark thoughts to loom in my brain.

"You can't expect me to want to go," I reply.

Effie hangs her head as if she knew that was always going to be my answer. Mum reaches out to take my hand and give it a squeeze.

"I know it is probably too soon to go back but I really think it would be good for you to go at some point," she says.

I shake my hand out of her grip and cross my hands over my chest.

"I'm never going back. It's just a reminder of my biggest failure. The fact the Wimbledon committee even thought I would want to go and sit in that Royal Box surrounded by able bodied athletes who have managed to achieve many of their goals makes me feel sick. They only invited me out of pity. If I ever go back there would be this big public fanfare and I don't need that," I say.

Mum looks at me sadly.

"Wimbledon used to be your favourite place. I wish things were different for you," she says.

"Genies and magic lamps don't exist, Mum. We don't get three wishes," I say.

That's the end of that conversation and Effie quickly moves onto something else but she can tell that I'm not in the right head space to be co-operative right. I know she came round to discuss my career options now I am completely done with rehab but she doesn't bring it up. She gets up to leave not long after, placing the dirty tea cups in the dishwasher and reaching down to give me a hug.

"I'll get in touch with you on Monday about all that other stuff. You're in the fortunate position that you earned enough before to not have to worry about money for a while," she says.

"Thanks, Effie. You've been such a good help," I say.

She smiles at me as she pulls away.

"Have a good weekend. I only have a few bits and bobs to do before some dinner with my sister," she says brightly.

"Where are you going?" Mum asks.

"Just a place in Chinatown. In all honesty I just needed an excuse to get out. Do you know Haymitch had the cheek to call me now that he's in London to ask me out for dinner? I told him exactly where to go. He can't break up with me because he's travelling all the time and then expect me to come running as soon as he's back in London. He's unbelievable!" she exclaims.

Mum shakes her head.

"It's so hard to find a good man. That's why when I met John, I knew he was the one. There aren't many men that hold doors for you or buy flowers just because it's a Tuesday," Mum replies. "I hope you learned from your dad, Peeta, because Rye certainly didn't!"

I manage a small smile and mum tells me that I don't have to get up to show them out. I listen to Effie complain about Haymitch as she walks away and I feel she wouldn't be this annoyed if she didn't have any feelings for him anymore.

My day doesn't really improve and I'm in bed when Katniss eventually comes back from the radio station. She doesn't try to get me out of bed, but I feel her arms slip around me later in the evening to hold me close.

When I wake the next morning the phantom pains in my leg have gone and Katniss is draped over the top of my body. I feel better today and place a kiss on top of her head before putting on my prosthetic and heading for the shower. I even put clean clothes on today and go downstairs to make breakfast for us both. Katniss comes down yawning and wearing only one of my old t-shirts. She smiles at me sleepily as she comes over for a kiss.

"Good morning," she says. "You feeling better today?"

I nod my head as I grab our plates of scrabbled egg on toast and guide us to the kitchen table.

"Yeah. Things feel a bit easier today," I say.

I've discovered there is no rhyme or reason for my bad days. Sometimes they last for just a day and other times three of four. There are some triggers for them, mainly when I'm reminded about tennis, but some just come out of the blue. All I can say is that they are getting less and I'm beginning to enjoy life again.

We have a pleasant breakfast and when Katniss suggests we go for a walk in the nearby park, I agree. I still don't particularly like going out in public but it has been easier since I could walk unaided. Plus if I wear my baseball cap and sunglasses barely anybody recognises me or asks for selfie.

Katniss and I stroll leisurely around the park hand in hand and stop off for a drink in a pub. The British summer has well and truly arrived and it feels nice to sit outside with a pint and the girl I love. I find my smile again and Katniss is not afraid to sneak small kisses.

But the time in the pub is cut short after Katniss receives an SOS message from Madge.

 _I need to talk to someone. Are you free? Xxx_

Katniss sighs as she types out a quick reply.

"What's the betting this is about Rye?" she says.

"He did manage to hold down a girlfriend for a five whole months last year. That's progress for him. Maybe he's wanting more from Madge," I reply.

"I'm not holding my breath," Katniss says before downing the rest of the drink.

We then leave the pub and head home to wait for Madge.

She eventually arrives on our doorstep wearing no make-up and her hair in a messy bun. After we have taken her through to the living room she sits forward to look at me.

"Have you heard from Bran today?" she asks.

I'm instantly confused that she didn't say Rye's name and shake my head.

"I haven't heard from him in a couple of days. He's been in Norway for work. Though we have a Sunday roast at my parents tomorrow," I reply.

Madge sighs and falls back against the sofa. She rubs at her eyes and begins shaking her head. Katniss and I turn to share a confused look.

"I've really fucked things up," she moans.

"How?" Katniss asks.

"I had sex with Rye again last night," Madge replies.

"You and Rye sleep together a lot. You're both single. It shouldn't really matter as long as you both want it," I reply.

Madge can't look me in the eye as she begins picking at her nails.

"It's different this time," she says. There is then a short pause. "I like Bran."

Both Katniss and my eyes widen in surprise.

"Since when?" Katniss asks.

Madge shrugs her shoulders.

"I guess it's been building since the accident. I was always close to you boys growing up but Bran and I seemed to spend more time together after it happened. He's so good to me. I can honestly call him at any hour of the day and he finds the time to listen to me. He buys me my favourite chocolate and always makes sure I get home safely after a night out together. He's become my best friend," she says.

Madge smiles as she says all this and it's strange to hear her talk with so much affection for my older brother.

"He finally kissed me last week and we were supposed to go on a date after he got back from his work trip to Norway but I did my usual thing and got drunk with Rye. I didn't even think about Bran until I woke up this morning," she says.

Her face clouds over as soon as talks about what happened with Rye last night. Katniss shakes her head.

"Have you told Bran yet?" she asks.

"I didn't get the chance. He called Rye this morning and found out from him. Rye had no idea anything was going on between us and now Bran won't answer any of my calls," she replies.

"Wow. I'm going to be honest, you don't look great right now, Madge. Bran only asks out girls he really like. This will have hurt him but he's always been the most sensible Mellark. Once he's less hurt I'm sure he'll hear you out," I say.

Madge lets out a loud sigh.

"I hope so. I hated myself this morning. Because I do really like him. And waking up today it really felt like I was done with Rye. I don't want to be messing around with him anymore. It doesn't make me happy. Bran does. I just want to get the chance to tell him that," she says.

Katniss puts a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It's obvious you regret it. You just need to do lots of things to show Bran he's the one you really care about," Katniss says.

Madge nods her head.

"I've already left him a box of his favourite cookies at his flat. Plus I've been looking to see if I can get tickets for his favourite comedian," she replies.

"That's a good start. Peeta and I will help you think of other things to do," Katniss says.

Katniss looks over to me and I nod my head.

"I believe that you want to make things work with Bran. I'm sure it won't take him long to forgive you," I say.

Madge smiles gratefully at us both before Katniss starts asking more questions about how she and Bran got close. The smile appears back on Madge's face as she recalls some of the times she spent with Bran and I can't believe Katniss and I didn't pick up on it sooner.

However things don't look good between them when I get a call from Bran later that night.

"I thought she was done with Rye. They hadn't slept together in almost a year. After we kissed she told me that she was falling for me and that there were so many things she wanted to do with me. I was the idiot that believed her," Bran says bitterly.

"I don't think she was lying to you. Katniss and I could barely got her to shut up about you today," I reply.

"Then why sleep with Rye? I don't think I could ever fully trust her if we were in a relationship. I know what the two of them are like and Rye will always be part of our lives. I would be always looking over my shoulder wondering when they were going to sleep together again," he says.

"I can see why you would feel like that. Trust is such an important thing in a relationship. But Madge might do something that proves you can trust her," I say.

"I really don't know, Peeta. I'm twenty-eight now. I don't want to have to handle so much drama," he replies.

My heart sinks for them both. Bran doesn't open his heart to many people and this had cut him deeper than I would have thought.

* * *

The drama between Madge, Bran and Rye drags on for most of the following week. Bran eventually agrees to speak to Madge but only to tell her that he doesn't think they can work. Katniss spends a lot of time on the phone to Madge in an effort to comfort her.

But after a couple days I don't care anymore about it. The anniversary of my accident is fast approaching. My family and friends aren't really sure how to react to it. My brothers just ignore it like usual while my mum thinks we should all have a nice meal together. Haymitch is my favourite though. I haven't seen him since he left to coach Marvel but he sends me a bottle of whiskey with a note saying:

 _Thought you might need this on Saturday. H_

I message him a thank you and tuck the bottle safely away until I need it.

I spend more time with Dr Aurelius as I try to figure out how I'm feeling. I'm surprised that I don't feel so angry. I have just this deep sense of longing and the doctor tells me this is a good sign. I'm moving on in the grieving process.

But the Saturday morning, one whole year since I lost my leg, I don't want to get out of bed. I hear Katniss rise and potter about as she gets ready for the day but I just pull the duvet over my head to block out the world. I fear that the looks of pity I get from my friends and family will be back today and I just wish I could spend this day far away from anyone and deal with it myself.

I think Katniss is going to let me wallow but suddenly the duvet is pulled off my body and she crouches down beside me.

"I think you should get up. I have a surprise for you," she says.

I bury my head in the pillow, not wanting to talk and to just nap.

"I can't face the world today," I reply.

Surprisingly this just causes Katniss' smile to grow wider.

"I'm not asking you to. You need to trust me that I know what type of surprise you need today," she says.

This intrigues me and I slowly twist my head around so I can see her more fully. My girlfriend smiles at me again and reaches out to caress my cheek.

"I know you, Peeta. I expect this day to be tough but I've done something to try and make it better," she adds.

I stare at her beautiful face and realise there is no one on Earth I trust more. She's the main reason I have got this far in my recovery and I don't want to let her down. Slowly I nod my head.

"Okay. I'll get out of bed," I reply.

Katniss smiles again and leans forward for a kiss.

"I'm glad. First step is to get in the shower," she says.

I sigh as I use all my energy to sit up and reattach my prosthetic. Katniss leads me through to the bathroom, turning on the shower and handing me shampoo. I follow her instructions and before I know it I'm washed and fed and getting into the car with her.

She won't give me any clues of where we are going and I quickly give up to stare at the scenery out the window. There are sporadic conversations but I quite enjoy watching the scenery change as we drive out of London, past the leafy suburbs and through the fresh countryside. We drive for a few hours and I take my leg off and stretch out as best as I can in the car. The further we get away from London the more relaxed I feel.

Eventually Katniss drives us up a single-track road that is surrounded by trees. There seems to be no other sign of civilisation and the only movements come from the birds flitting about the trees. Pops of colours sprout from the ground from the wildflowers that are growing and I think I can see a lake glistening in the distance. Katniss turns to me with a smile but I frown, confused of exactly where she is taking me.

"You've not taken me out here to murder me?" I say.

Katniss laughs and shakes her head.

"You wanted to stay away from the world today so here we are," she replies.

She then pulls the car into a small driveway beside a little stone cottage. The cottage is right beside the lake and there is a pile of wood outside just waiting to be put on the fireplace. I roll down the window and the only sound is the faint rustle of the trees in the breeze. I inhale the crisp smell of nature and allow the tranquillity to seep into my body. I turn to look back at Katniss in awe.

"It's perfect," I say.

She smiles as she leans forward and cups my cheek with her hand.

"I'm glad you liked it. Sometimes I know what you need better than you do," she says.

I laugh as I reach my hand up to draw her closer.

"I love you. Thank you," I say.

"I love you too," she replies.

We then come together to share a deep kiss.

* * *

I reattach my leg and then Katniss leads me out the car to give me the tour. The cottage isn't big consisting of only three rooms but has a real cosy feel. Most of the bedroom is taken up by a massive oak bed and the living area has a wooden table and chairs that all have uneven legs meaning they wobble when you sit down. But I don't want to spend too long in the cottage. It's the outside that I feel most at peace so I grab Katniss hand to take her exploring.

The uneven ground isn't the easiest to navigate with my leg but Katniss keeps a tight hold of my hand and is always there to catch me when I stumble. We walk around the edge of the lake but stop when a mummy duck followed by all her ducklings wade out of the water and back to their nest. We laugh as the baby ducks struggles to keep up with the mother and some of them bump into each other.

"Do we have any bread we can feed them?" I ask.

"I think so. But I actually had another activity in mind. They said it should be just around here and that they would stock it up," Katniss replies.

I frown but Katniss is already pulling me away from the ducks. We only have to walk a little bit further until we find a small boat next to a little shed. Katniss' eyes light up in delight. She lets go of my hand to approach the shed and disappears inside. When she emerges she holds two fishing rods and a can of bait.

"I always said I was going to take you fishing. And now we have the time to do it," she says.

I shake my head. Katniss used to talk a lot about doing this when I was still playing tennis because it brought back found memories of summer holidays spent with her grandparents in the Lake District. But I've never seen the appeal. Sitting still all day when you might not even catch something doesn't sound like my idea of fun.

"Now I see your real motive for bringing me out here," I reply.

Katniss grins at me as she puts the fishing gear down in the boat. She then comes back to me and puts her arms around my middle.

"I watched every one of the James Bond films for you. You owe me one," she says.

"Hey! What's wrong with James Bond? He's the coolest guy ever!" I reply.

Katniss shakes her head.

"He seems to brings as much death and destruction as he does saving anything and don't even get me started on how nearly every female in those films are just damsels in distress just waiting to be saved," she says.

I open my mouth to counter back but Katniss just shakes her head.

"In the boat. Now," she says.

I sigh in defeat and get in the boat. She smiles in triumph before untying the boat and jumping in with me. As if to further argue against gender stereotypes she picks up the oars and rows us to the middle of the lake.

I'm eyeing the bait warily in the boat. I can smell it from here and I really don't want to have to pick it up. Katniss then drops the anchor and eagerly reaches out for the fishing equipment. She sits closer to me as she hands me one of the rods and then dips her hand to pick out some bait.

"Fishing is quite simple. You just hook on the bait, throw the line in and wait," she says.

I screw my nose up in disgust as she hooks the chopped worm onto the end of her line.

"It still doesn't sound appealing," I say.

Katniss rolls her eyes at me before encouraging me to pick my own bait. I take a deep breath as I tentatively put my hand in and take a bit of worm out. Katniss then pulls that hand up to show me how to hook it on.

"That's it," she says as I manage to secure it. "I didn't realise you were so squeamish."

"I once made the mistake of falling asleep in the hammock when we were kids. I woke up to find Rye had dumped worms all over my face. I can still smell them now," I say with a shiver.

Katniss laughs as she then shows me how to throw the line into the water. The end of the line lands in the water with a plop and I sigh, relieved the dead worm is away from me now.

"So now we just wait?" I say.

Katniss nods her head before throwing her own line in.

"The waiting is the best bit. It's so peaceful and you can forget about everything else," she says.

I nod my head but I'm not convinced. It all sounds a bit boring to me.

Katniss starts chatting to me about the holidays she spent with her grandparents and the various fishing mishaps her granddad had. I enjoy listening to her speak so fondly about her family. She so rarely speaks about them. Her grandparents are dead now and her dad left when she was eleven. Her mum has been living in Spain for the last six years and they only see each other once a year if they're lucky. But I'm glad she has some happy childhood memories.

And against my better judgement I begin to enjoy myself. Katniss has brought a rucksack filled with snacks and drinks and we causally munch on them as we wait for a fish. She's right about it feeling peaceful out here and it feels like we are the only two people in the world. We have no phones or relatives to distract us. It's impossible to think about tennis out here. It's just me talking and laughing with the girl I love.

We stay on the lake for hours and it doesn't drag at all. I don't have much success, except for catching an old plastic bag but Katniss does get a tug on her line and pulls a silvery-grey fish out the water. I jump back as it flaps about the bottom of the boat and Katniss laughs at me. She whacks it over the head and it goes still. She then looks up at me with a grin.

"It looks like I caught our supper for tonight," she says.

* * *

We take the fish back to the cottage and Katniss instantly goes about preparing it. I've never gutted a fish before so I'm quite happy to let her take the lead and follow her instructions. She seems to be in her element and I'm a little sad it took us so long to do this.

The fish is delicious once we eat it and we spend the rest of the evening in front of the fire playing the various board games that have been left over the years. By the time we go to bed I realise I haven't thought about the accident once since we got here and I lie in bed with a small smile on my face.

Katniss comes back through from the bathroom with her hair down and wearing my boxers and old t-shirt.

"Do you even own your own pyjamas? You always seem to steal my clothes to wear to bed," I say.

Katniss turns to me with a cheeky grin before crawling onto the bed towards me. She stops when she is about an inch away from my nose.

"Your clothes are just comfier," she replies.

I smile back at her as I place my hands on her back and run them up and down her sides.

"You do look hot in them. I shouldn't really complain," I say.

"No. You shouldn't," Katniss says.

She moves in even closer and I reach up for a kiss. Her hands grab onto my shoulders as she straddles me while mine tangle into her hair. Our mouths open wide for each other as my fingers massage her scalp and Katniss presses her covered breasts against my bare chest. The fabric of her t-shirt tickles my nipples and her hands slip down my sides to run along my thighs. My hands move lower to her neck to tip her head back and lavish the spot just behind her ear.

Katniss grips onto the tops of my thighs as I lap up the skin on her neck and she begins to gently rock over me. My cock slowly starts to stir and when Katniss plunges forward to nibble at my earlobe it rises up ready for action. She feels it as she continues to buck against me and smiles as she kisses my neck.

"Somebody's ready to play tonight," she says before taking my lips in a searing kiss.

Her hand slips into my boxers, grasping my cock and gently stroking it.

Over the last few months my cock had finally started to work again. After being too embarrassed to talk to either my doctor or Dr Aurelius about it for two months I eventually plucked up the courage to tell them. Both of them agreed that it was probably a mental thing and Dr Aurelius told me to take it right back to basics. It's like when I was a teenager and first started to learn how to be intimate with a girl. Katniss and I still haven't had full intercourse with each other since the accident but we have become experts at pleasuring each other in other ways.

I grunt as Katniss swirls her hand over my slit and the dips down to play with my balls. She places lots of lingering kisses on neck, getting lower each time until she reaches my collarbone. Her tongue then sweeps out to run over the length of it and I buck up more fiercely into her hand. Katniss smiles at me wickedly as she then releases my cock and puts her hands on my neck to kiss me deeply. I desperately rock against her to get some friction but she's stopped pushing against me for now.

She slowly releases my lip and then starts kissing a trail down my chest. Her fingers reach up to twist and tweak my nipples and her tongue swirls in my belly button on her way down. Soon she is face to face with the bulge in my boxer shorts and she shoots me another wicked grin before hooking her fingers in the elastic and yanking my boxers down my legs. My cock springs free and sits against my abdomen. Katniss' eyes zone in on it and she tucks her hair behind her ear. Slowly she lowers her head and licks up my length from the base, swirling her tongue at the top and then licking down the other side. My hands try to grip onto the bed sheets as she repeats this several more times before engulfing me completely.

I've always loved the feel of her mouth around me and it makes me forget that I'm not whole any more. She hollows her cheeks to suck me and then her hand moves down to work on the area her mouth can't reach. My eyes focus on her dark locks bobbing up and down as she sucks on me and I begin to start gently thrusting in her mouth. This urges her on and she sucks in more earnest, her hands then reaching out to squeeze my balls. The expletives starts to fall rapidly from my mouth and Katniss ups the pace even more. I don't know how her jaw is handling it and my balls start to feel heavy with cum. I gently reach down to push Katniss on the shoulder.

"I'm about to come," I pant.

Katniss then releases me with a pop but her hand tightens around me. She works me up and down furiously until the sticky cum starts exploding from my slit. She wraps her hand around the top to catch most of it and I fall back against the headboard, breathless. Once she's milked me dry to gets up to grab a towel and cleans us both up. She then crawls into the space beside me and places her head on my shoulder. I tip her chin up to give her a sweet kiss.

"This may be the best day I've had since the accident," I say. "I want so many more days like this."

Katniss smiles up at me.

"I know there are still going to be bad days but I'm happy as long as we keep having these good days too," she replies.

* * *

We spend the whole weekend at the cottage and I like being cut off from the world. It's with a lot of reluctance when we go home on the Monday. Driving back into London is made even harder as it's the start of 2019 Wimbledon Championships. There are billboards everywhere advertising the tournament and I don't let Katniss turn on the radio in fear of hearing it being talked about.

It seems harder to avoid the Championships this year because I'm not in a hospital bed and duped up on pain medication. Cato has a surprisingly loss to a qualifier player in the third round and Marvel does really well with Haymitch now his coach. I distract myself by finally watching _Game of Thrones_ and realising what all the fuss is about. I come down one morning hoping to find out how Jon Snow comes back to life but Katniss is already up and watching something on the TV. However as soon as she hears me come through she jumps and abruptly switches the TV channel. I only catch a glimpse of what she was watching before but I saw a lot of green and can only assume that she was watching tennis.

"You can watch the tennis is you want. I can watch _Game of Thrones_ in the other room," I say.

Katniss looks down a bit guilty.

"No. It's okay. I was only really putting it on for background noise," she says.

Katniss has always been a rubbish liar but I appreciate that she's lying to protect me. I shrug my shoulder as I come to sit down next to her. We sit slightly apart as she hands me the remote and I navigate the TV to the _Game of Thrones_ box set. Neither of us say anything until the show titles.

"Would you ever want to play tennis again? Say that someone invented a prosthetic that meant you could move just like you did before the accident, would you choose to play tennis?" she asks.

"There was no better feeling that hitting a winner up the line. But that's not going to happen again. There's no point imagining something that can't happen," I reply.

I have no idea why she brought it up. She knows I hate to talk about tennis. That's firmly in my past now. I need to move on and Katniss seems to end the conversation there.

Over the next few days and I'm glad I can avoid the Wimbledon final by having Sunday lunch at my parents and no one brings it up. But on the way back home Katniss takes a wrong turn and starts driving in the opposite direction.

"Where are you going? I don't think this is the right way. This could seriously affect your Uber rating," I tease.

Katniss smiles and shakes her head.

"I have another surprise for you," she says.

I frown in confusion.

"What for this time?" I ask.

"You admitted that my last surprise was a good one. You need to trust me," she replies.

I lean back in my chair.

"I trust you. But I feel like I owe you a surprise now," I say.

Katniss turns to me with a smile.

"You definitely do," she says.

She then carries on driving and I have no clue where I am going. But I trust her.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks to everyone who has followed/favourited/reviewed the story so far. Now Peeta has made big strides in both his mental and pyhiscal recovery the story is going to move onto what he's going to do next. Right now he still doesn't really have a clue what to do with his life. But Katniss is going to be vital in helping him figure it out.**


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8_

My curiosity gets the better of me as Katniss drives through London and I peer out the car window as I try to spot any clues about where she is taking me. I try to prod her for hints but she just smiles each time and tells me to be patient. My brain wracks through various scenarios about what it could be, everything from a cooking class to a secret gig but I'm still none the wiser.

Eventually Katniss takes a turn down a narrow road and my whole body stiffens when I glimpse a large sports centre looming up ahead. My heart drops when we drive past the sign for the centre and I sink into the car seat with my arms crossed over my chest.

 _Welcome to Arena Tennis Centre_

Outdoor tennis courts surround the car park and I can hear the familiar thudding of tennis balls being hit. I don't dare turn to look at the excited kids playing on the courts and keep my eyes pinned to the floor. Katniss pulls into a disabled car parking space and turns to me nervously.

"Why the hell would you bring me here? I told you that I didn't want anything more with tennis," I say harshly.

"Please just come inside for a minute. It's not quite what you think," Katniss pleads.

I look to her angrily.

"I thought you knew me. You should know a tennis centre is the last place I want to fucking be!" I yell.

Somewhere inside my head there is Dr Aurelius' voice telling me to calm down and count to ten but I push that voice away. Being near tennis again is bringing back a lot of memories and the longing for the sport appears again. I can't be around it. I can't be reminded of the person I used to be.

"Stop swearing at me. I do know you and I know that you miss tennis. I just had an idea on how to bring it back into your life," Katniss replies.

I shake my head like a spoiled child who isn't getting their way.

"This isn't a face your fears thing. I don't want to be here," I say.

Katniss then leans back in her seat with her arms crossed.

"Well I'm not driving you back until you have at least had a look. I can be just as stubborn as you," she says.

We both sit in angry silence for a moment, neither of us looking at the other. I still can't believe she thought it was a good idea to bring me here and I'm furious that she thinks she knows what is best for me. But I also know how stubborn she is. I'm most likely stuck here until I do what she says. With great reluctance I turn to exit the car. I push the door back abruptly and get out the car with my back turned.

"Fine," I say through gritted teeth. "I'll do what you want."

I keep my back to her as she gets out the car and walk a good few paces behind her as we enter the centre. I look at the ground as Katniss talks to someone at the desk and only move when she calls me to follow her.

I drag my feet as Katniss takes me past various tennis courts and block out the shouts of triumphs when someone has made a good shot. But I almost walk into Katniss when she suddenly stops and turns to face me. She's just as pissed off as me but tips her head towards the tennis court next to us.

"I found a way you can play tennis again," she says.

I continue to scowl at her but do turn my head to see what she is talking about. To my dismay I see four guys in wheelchairs all holding tennis rackets and working hard to get the ball back over the net.

"You can't be fucking serious? You honestly think this is the answer? Wheelchair tennis?" I exclaim.

"I caught a bit of it during Wimbledon and it's so similar to the able bodied game. I actually found it rather captivating so I Googled to find a place that did it and it led me here. This is how you can play tennis again," she replies.

I shake my head.

"You're unbelievable. You honestly think sitting in a wheelchair and hitting a ball back will make up for the fact I can't play professional tennis anymore? I've just spent the last year in rehab making sure I could move without a wheelchair and now you want me to get back in it. That's the furthest thing from what I want, Katniss!" I say.

The people playing wheelchair tennis can hear us and stop playing to look over. I should probably lower my voice in case I say something to insult them but I'm still so angry at Katniss. She then huffs and puts her hands on her hips.

"I can see bringing you here was a mistake. I should have probably talked to you about it first but I honestly believe that this isn't a bad idea. I know you have struggled to find your purpose in life this last year and I just wanted to give you something to focus on," she says.

"You've misjudged this whole situation completely. You should have known better," I say.

And with that I then turn away to walk back to the car. I clench my fists at my side, insulted that she thought this is what I wanted.

I'm playing about with my phone when Katniss eventually follows me back to the car. She gets in without saying anything and I don't turn to look at her. The whole car journey back home is silent.

When we eventually arrive back at our house Katniss stops by the pavement instead of driving into the underground garage.

"Why have you parked here? The car's safer in the garage," I say.

"I'm dropping you off. I'm going to go round to Madge's. She owes me a few moaning sessions after how much I've listened to her about Bran and Rye recently," she replies emotionlessly.

I shake my head as I hastily take off my seatbelt.

"Fine. Run away from our argument. I could probably do with the peace and quiet anyway," I say.

Katniss clenches her jaw but doesn't bite back. I push myself out the car and walk to the front door without looking back.

I'm in a foul mood and slump on the couch with a six pack of beer and a mountain of snacks. I put on an action movie I've seen a million times already and wallow in self-pity.

But I'm interrupted out of my slump by the doorbell ringing. At first I try to ignore it but the person on the other side of the door doesn't give up. They shrill ringing continues until it gives me a headache so I reluctantly shove back on my prosthetic leg and answer it. When I yank the door back I find both my brothers on the other side of the door.

Rye holds up more beer and I frown at them confused.

"What are you doing here?" I grumble.

"Madge messaged me to tell me that you and Katniss had a fight. We thought you could do with some company. And perspective," Bran replies.

I ignore the last comment and step aside to let them in. It might actually be good to rant to someone about what Katniss did today.

Rye makes himself at home immediately, spreading himself out so he takes up the entire couch and grabs a handful of Doritos that are on the table. Bran perches himself on one of the chairs and I slump down on another one.

"So I see that you're still in contact with Madge, even though you told us all that's never going to happen," I say to Bran.

"I can't stop her messaging me. And she was worried about you," he replies.

Rye shakes his head as he licks the Dorito dust off his fingers.

"I don't see why you haven't forgiven her yet. She was honestly a mess the next morning after it happened. I think she genuinely likes you. And if I had known there was something going on between you two I would have never have done it. It's always just been about the sex between me and her," Rye says.

"But she did know there was something going on between us and it wasn't enough to stop her falling back into bed with you. She made me promises that she couldn't even keep for a week. I can't get over that," Bran replies.

Rye and I share a look. Bran's been pretty miserable since the whole thing happened and we're both pretty sure he still has strong feelings for her. But Bran just sighs as he leans forward to grab a beer.

"I'm not going to let you change the subject, Peeta. What happened between you can Katniss? I thought you two were doing really well now," he says.

"Things can change quickly," I say picking at the label on my beer bottle. "She thought it would be a good idea to take me to a tennis centre to play wheelchair tennis. That's the last fucking thing I want."

Bran and Rye then listen carefully as they let me rant about what occurred late this afternoon. They agree with me that it wasn't a good idea that she just sprung it on me and I'm glad they are on my side.

"I can understand why you're angry for Katniss just assuming it would be something you want to do but remember that she loves you and this wouldn't have come from a bad place," Bran says.

"I know that deep down. But it brought back a lot of memories that I promised never to think about. Just being near a tennis court reminds me of the person I used to be. It's probably a good thing Katniss went to Madge's this evening. We would have just ended up arguing more if she had stayed," I say.

My brothers nod my head and Rye steers the conversation away to talk about _Love Island_. He goes into great depth of which girl he would want to couple up with on the show and which islanders are only in it for the fame and not the love.

A little while later, Katniss messages me to tell me that as it's got so late she's going to stay at Madge's tonight. I'm sort of relieved that we can put off the resolution of the argument until tomorrow. I tell my brothers that they can stay over if they want and then get up to get everyone a jug of water.

As I'm filling up the jug, Rye follows me through and leans his elbow against the kitchen counter.

"I'm not sure who's worse at the moment. Bran moping about Madge or you moping about your argument with Katniss," he says.

"I thought you agreed with me that she was wrong to take me there," I say.

"She was wrong about taking you there without talking to you about it first. You needed time to mentally prepare yourself for being near a tennis court. But I don't think she's wrong about you playing wheelchair tennis," he says.

I scoff as I finish filling the jug and turn off the tap. I turn back to face him fully.

"I can't go from playing real tennis to playing it in a wheelchair," I reply.

"Why not? What's so bad about it? Because Katniss was totally right when she said you miss tennis. We can all see it," he says.

"Of course I miss tennis. You would miss sex if your dick was cut off. That's what it was like for me when they took my leg," I say.

Rye sighs and tugs on the ends of his hair.

"It may not be the same as playing for the Wimbledon trophy on centre court but you would have a racquet in your hand. You could compete again. Wasn't that your favourite part?" he says.

I shake my head.

"It's totally different," I reply.

"I really don't think it is. I think you should try it. Hey, I'll even come with you. I'm still waiting to find the sport I excel at and maybe it's wheelchair tennis," he says with a smile.

I let myself have a small laugh as I shake my head.

"You don't have to do it again if you really don't like it but Katniss was also right that you need to find your purpose in life again. You're only going to be able to do that if you try new things," he says.

I inhale deeply but my sex mad brother is talking a lot of sense. I may feel like Katniss owes me an apology but I owe her a bigger one for the way I spoke to her. She's just trying to find out what's best for me.

"Okay. I think you might be right," I say.

Rye smiles triumphantly and slaps me on the back.

"I keep telling you that I'm more than just my dick. I'm actually quite wise," he says tapping his head.

I raise my eyebrow at him.

"But clearly not humble," I reply.

Rye just grins wider.

"You've got to flaunt your talents," Rye says.

He then sticks both his arms out wide and gives me a little twirl.

"I'm calling in sick to work tomorrow and we are going to play some wheelchair tennis. Don't get to disheartened if I end up better than you," he says.

I shake my head.

"Who ever does the best can buy lunch," I say.

Rye grins at me.

"An excellent idea, Little Bro," he replies.

* * *

The next morning Bran gets up early for work and wishes us both good luck at the tennis centre. I send Katniss a message saying I'm sorry for shouting at her yesterday and to tell her I'm going to be out with Rye this morning. I don't tell her we're going to the tennis centre. I want to know exactly how I feel about wheelchair tennis before we have our apology talk later today. And I don't want her getting her hopes up.

Rye phones ahead to the tennis centre and they say they have a couch on hand that will be able to help us with the wheelchair tennis. They have a couple of wheelchairs on site that we can borrow for the session and I'm not sure exactly how I feel about it as we set off.

Anxiety creeps in the closer we get to the centre. Rye talks for most of the journey but I remain largely silent. Can I really get back in a wheelchair again? The last time I was in one I hated my life. I'm terrified it will bring back a load of bad memories.

And what if it just all feels too strange? What if I get frustrated that I can't hit the ball or chase it down? It might just lead me back to resenting the fact I lost my leg. I just don't know what to expect.

The coach is a middle-aged guy with neatly trimmed grey hair and a slight beer belly called Blight. He sticks his hand out for a warm handshake and gives us a big smile.

"I'm so glad to meet you, Peeta. You have been such an inspiration this last year with how you have dealt with the accident," he says.

I make a mental note to thank Effie for all her work she has down since the accident. If the public knew the truth about how much I've struggled this year I don't think Blight would be calling me an inspiration.

He leads us through to the tennis courts explaining how he got involved in wheelchair tennis and what he can do to help us.

"It's mainly social wheelchair tennis down here. There just isn't enough access to social disabled sport right now. Not every disabled person wants to compete in the Paralympics so we try to give those people that opportunity," he says.

I nod my head glad that it doesn't seem too serious. I can't imagine competing to a serious level again.

"Though we did get Finnick Odair down here one time for a training session. He just won the men's wheelchair tennis at Wimbledon!" Blight adds.

I'd briefly met Finnick Odair once before at the Wimbledon before my accident. He's a British player that is having a lot of success in the wheelchair sport and has helped raised the profile of the game in the UK. But I've never paid too much attention to the sport until now because I was so busy focused on my own game.

Finally we arrive at the correct tennis court and there are two wheelchairs designed specifically for tennis waiting for us.

"These are just standard issue wheelchair tennis chairs. The players that get more serious about it have their own ones specially designed for them but these are perfect for beginners," Blight says.

I stare warily at the wheelchair that is in front of me. I'm taken back to those early days in the hospital where I was in so much pain and had to rely on nearly everyone to do anything.

"Do I take my prosthetic off?" I ask, my eyes not leaving the wheelchair.

"It's your choice. All players legs are strapped in so no one has an advantage. Most amputees probably play without it on. And like I said the more serious players have chairs specially designed to match the amputation," Blight replies.

I'm not really sure what that would look like but decide to keep my leg on today. I'm still struggling to mentally prepare myself to sitting in the chair but Rye gently nudges me in the back as he walks past and jumps in his one.

"This is totally the sport for me. A sport I can play while sitting down!" he exclaims as he begins twirling about in the chair. "When can we start?"

Blight grins at Rye's enthusiasm and goes over to strap him in. I take a moment longer to stare at the chair before taking a deep breath and taking a seat in it. I immediately hate being down at this level again. I get flashbacks to the last time I was in one and see lots of images of people looking down at me with pity. And the view of the tennis court feels strange from this angle. I can only just see over the net. I have no idea how I'm going to be able to serve sitting down.

But Blight smiles encouragingly at me as he comes over to strap me in and then hands me a tennis racquet. Rye already has his racquet and takes a few practise swings. He's quite energetic with his swings and I'm pretty glad I'm not in hitting distance of him.

As soon as my own hand wraps around the handle of the racquet my anxiety disappears. This racquet may be lighter than the one I used to play with but for so long a racquet was just an extension of my body. A jolt of excitement runs through my body and I can already feel some of my competitiveness coming back. I savour the feel of having it back in my hand.

Blight steps back and grabs some tennis balls.

"We're going to start off simple. Just bouncing the ball on your racquet while you're stationary. We'll have a mini-competition to see who can bounce the ball the most times," he says.

Rye flashes me a grin.

"My quest to win that free lunch starts now," he says.

I chuckle as Blight hands us each a ball. This doesn't seem too hard and I feel a little bit like a child taken to their first tennis lesson. I sigh as I place it on top of my racquet and start to bounce it.

However I massively misjudged this task. Maybe it's because I'm out of practise or more likely it's harder to adjust at this angle but my ball spills from my racquet after only a few bounces. Even more annoyingly, Rye manages to keep his bouncing a few more times before his own tumbles to the ground. I let out a frustrated sigh as I wheel after the ball and pick it up with my racquet.

"It takes a while to get used to the new angles. Plus you can't move in the same way you used to. But you'll get there," Blight says.

I nod my head as I place the ball back on the racquet. I become more determined to try and get better.

It takes a few more tries but I eventually manage to figure it out and I smile smugly to Rye as I continue to bounce the ball up and down on my racquet.

"I think I won the first round," I say.

Rye's ball falls away from him as I keep up my steady bouncing. He then turns to me with a grin.

"You may have won this battle but I'll win the war," he replies.

I laugh again and Blight moves us on to the next exercise.

The couch keeps things simple and there is nearly some level of competition in each task. I find myself getting more competitive as the session goes on and Rye and I start doing our best to distract each other. Short sprints in our wheelchairs almost ends with us crashing into each other but we're both laughing at the narrow escape.

The end of the session approaches quickly but Blight wants to end it with us hitting some balls.

"Let's see if you can put what you learned today into practise. I'm going to hit some balls to you and you have to try and hit it back over the net," he says. "Remember you can hit the ball on the second bounce if you need to."

I nod my head and focus my eyes on the ball in Blight's hand. I offer to go first and Blight gives me an encouraging smile. He serves the ball under arm right to me and I bite on my bottom lip as I swing my arm back. But my hit point is now lower and I completely misjudge the timing of the ball. The ball bounces past me as I make a complete air shot.

"It's okay, Peeta. It can take a while for you to get your eye back," Blight says.

I nod my head as I turn to look at the ball that has just gone past me. I try to not get frustrated with myself but I would have never have missed a ball like that before.

"Bad luck, Peeta. You'll get the next one," Rye says.

I smile at him in thanks. He then gives me a cheeky grin.

"But obviously I'm going to hit it first time," he says.

I shake my head as his attention turns back to Blight. Blight does the exact same thing he did for me but Rye brings his racquet back earlier and I watch in dismay as he makes contact with the ball and sends it flying over the net. Rye raises his hands triumphantly in the air.

"Yes! I always knew I was the best brother! Looks like lunch is on you, Peeta!" he exclaims.

"The ball landed out," I grumble.

"Blight never said it had to be in," Rye says with a grin.

I huff, annoyed that my brother has done better than me and then turn to Blight, ready this time for what is coming to me. The ball comes back towards me and I make my swing shorter so I can hit the ball earlier. The ball bounces up perfectly this time onto my racquet and I thump it back with all the force I have. It soars over the net and I turn to Rye with a massive grin.

"I haven't let you win at tennis since I was eight years old. I felt it was about time you had a win now," I say.

Rye grins at me.

"You're just worried I'm finally going to be better at tennis than you," he replies.

I shake my head and we go back to hitting the balls Blight sends our way. I grow in confidence with every shot I make and the smile stays on my face. I realise it doesn't matter if I'm in a wheelchair, it's still the same sweet feeling when I hit the ball back perfectly over the net. My adrenaline still runs as I become more competitive. I realise I'm having fun.

I ask Rye to take a video of me hitting balls back to Blight and then send it to Katniss. I owe her a massive apology.

Katniss replies instantly with a smiley face emoji and I can't wait to get home to tell her all about it.

When I finally get back home with Rye I'm still buzzing with energy. I practically bounce into the living area where Katniss is sitting and greet her with a massive grin. She stands up cautiously, not quite sure exactly how I will react but the pure joy in my eye gives her an indication and her shoulders relax. I bound round to her and wrap her in my arms.

"I'm so sorry for shouting at you yesterday. It was completely unnecessary and harsh," I say. "You were right. I miss tennis and today I got a bit of it back."

Katniss pulls backs slightly to look at me properly.

"You really enjoyed it? It didn't bring back bad memories?" she asks.

I shake my head.

"I didn't like getting in the wheelchair at first but after a while I didn't care. I got to hit a tennis ball again. It's still one of the best feelings," I reply.

"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it first. It can't have been nice just springing it on you. I was just trying to help," she says.

I rest my forehead against hers.

"I know. We're not always going to make the right decisions but I should have never have reacted that way towards you. You did help me in the end. I loved it," I say.

"So you're going to go back?" Katniss asks.

"Absolutely. It's different from normal tennis but I quite like the challenge. Though Rye thinks he's better than me. I think I need to up my game," I reply.

"Hey! You still owe me lunch you know," Rye says.

I turn to him with a smile.

"I should have known you would never forget a free meal," I reply. I then turn back to Katniss. "Do you want to come with us? I've got so much to tell you about the tennis and I think I also owe you a free lunch as well."

Katniss smiles at me.

"Sure. Besides, you're going to need someone to help you counter all of Rye's bragging," she says.

"It's not every day someone can say they have beaten Peeta Mellark, former British number one player. I'm milking this for all it's worth!" Rye replies.

Katniss and I both laugh before she goes to get her bag and we head out for lunch.

* * *

I wake up excited the next morning about being able to play tennis again. I phone the centre and Blight says he can fit me in on Thursday. He also says we can talk more about setting up a specific programme from me if wheelchair tennis is something I'm serious about doing.

I'm in such a good mood that I decide I should do something nice for Katniss. This last year has been tough on me but it's also been tough on her and I still feel bad for how I shouted at her at the weekend. I spend a while thinking of the best surprise for her before settling on something I like.

She's at work today so it makes my task easier. I go to the local supermarket and buy a load of candles, bubble bath and heart shaped post-its. I have a very specific idea of what I want to set up and smile to myself as I gather everything together.

I leave a trail of post-its from the front door to the bathroom and each post-it has a reason why I love Katniss on it. I then line the trail with candles and start running a bubble bath while it takes a frustratingly long time to light all the candles I have placed.

I burn some incense in the bathroom as well and make a playlist of some of Katniss' favourite relaxing music before sitting in the bathroom, waiting for her to come home.

I hear the front door open at the time I was expecting her back and there is a short pause before Katniss calls my name.

"Peeta! What is this?" she says.

I can't stop myself from smiling but don't answer her. I want her to find me on her own. It seems to take an agonisingly long time but eventually I hear her footsteps approach the bathroom door and she slowly pushes the door open.

"Surprise," I say softly.

Katniss clutches all the post-its tightly in her hand as she looks around the bathroom in awe. I've filled nearly every available flat surface with more candles and the music plays softly already. Her eyes scan over every inch of the bathroom before she turns back to me with a smile.

"I suppose it was my time for a surprise now," she says.

I nod my head and then she comes towards me, sitting on my lap and kissing me deeply. My hands squeeze at her waist and Katniss smiles. We pull back slightly and Katniss uses the hand not holding the post-its to brush my hair off my face.

"These notes were lovely. And they are one of the reasons why I love you," she says.

I place a kiss on her nose.

"I always love you. Even when I shout at you, I love you. You mean everything to me, Katniss," I reply.

Katniss smiles back at me and the peers over my shoulder to look at the bath.

"We should probably get in there before it gets cold," she says.

I pull back further and shake my head.

"No. This is your bath. I'm not going to disturb you," I say.

Katniss frowns and pulls me back to her.

"If you think for one second that I'm getting in there without you then you are a bigger idiot than I thought," she says.

I smile up at her and she then leans down to give me another deep kiss. The post-its falls from her hand and she then pulls back to whip off her shirt and bra. Katniss raises her eyebrow to get me to do the same. I do as she commands and we're both soon naked before she helps me remove my leg. I then manage to get into the bath by holding onto Katniss' hand tightly.

I sit at one end and Katniss puts her hair up in a messy bun before slipping in and sitting with her back against my chest. My arms immediately go around her and she sinks into me. I place a kiss on the top of her head before I ask her about her day. She talks about researching a rather boring guest they have coming on the radio show this week and we both laugh as she talks about the challenges her and the team came up with to try and ruffle the singer's feathers. We so rarely do anything normal like this together now.

After a while Katniss picks up a sponge and offers it to me.

"Since you've gone to all this trouble you might as well wash me," Katniss says with a cheeky smile.

I take the sponge off her and apply shower gel to it.

"My pleasure," I reply.

Katniss grins at me as I begin massaging the soap onto her shoulders and collarbone. I then rinse the soap suds off her body and my lips replace the sponge against her skin. Katniss sighs in content as she tips her head to the side to grant me better access.

"This is going to take longer if you keep doing that," she says.

I smirk against her skin.

"I intend to take my time," I reply.

My lips keep placing kisses on her neck but my hand sweeps down with the sponge to swirl around her breast. Katniss moans as the sponge brushes against her skin and she presses her arse down into my groin. I let out a little groan as she does so and my cock stirs. I spend a long time cleaning the area of her breast, adding more pressure with each rotation while my lips make their way back up to Katniss' ear to nibble on her earlobe. Her hands begin rubbing up and down my thighs until one reaches behind her to grab my cock. I'm only semi-hard when she grasps me but with a few well-known strokes she gets me completely ready and I drop the sponge in my hand. Now free, my hand slips down her body and goes straight for her clit. Katniss cries out as I apply quick and hard circles around it and she then twists round to silence us both with a kiss.

The kiss is clumsy due to the angle and the fact our hands our busy doing other things. Katniss pulls back panting and let's go of my cock so she can turn and face me fully. My hand falls from her clit as she straddles me and takes my head in her hands to kiss me passionately. Our tongues come out immediately to tangle to together and my hands grip onto her arse to guide her movements over me. I squeeze and pinch her arse cheeks and the sound of the water lapping against the tub get louder as we begin to move frantically.

Katniss slides her hands down to my shoulders and nips at my neck but then she starts to slow. The kisses on my lips get shorter and our movements stiller until we eventually stop completely, both us just looking at each other panting.

Katniss strokes some hair backs and leans down for a soft kiss.

"I don't want this in the bath," she says.

I nod my head in agreement and Katniss kisses me one more time before rising out the bath in all her naked and dripping glory. She gracefully climbs out and then bends down to help me get out. I grasp onto her hand tightly but it's harder than usual to get out the bath while her breasts hang so deliciously in front of me.

It's also tricky to stand up with only one foot but Katniss uses her own strength to help me step out. I'm clumsy though and stumble into her as my foot hits the tiled floor. Katniss catches me though and then spins me around to sit on a nearby chair.

She walks away to get me a towel and my prosthetic and I watch her pert little arse as she goes. My dick twitches when she bends down and I want nothing more to grab back onto it again.

Katniss smiles as she comes back to me. She rests my prosthetic beside us before kneeling down to dry me with the towel. She starts at my legs and gently pats the water away. I can't take my eyes off her as she dries my good leg and then places a kiss on my knee. She stops for a moment as she turns to my amputated lower limb but when she does eventually move again it is to place a kiss on the scarred tissue there. The kiss is feather light but tingles my whole skin. Her lips linger there for a few seconds and I feel more loved in this moment that I have ever had before.

Katniss looks up at me after she has pulled her lips away and I have nothing but love for. I reach my arms down for her.

"Come here," I say.

Katniss reaches up and I pull her onto my lap. It doesn't matter that we're both still wet or that my leg is missing. I want this moment with her.

My hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair off her face and then Katniss leans her forehead against mine. She wraps her arms around my neck and tangles her fingers in the curls there. I arch up, pressing my dick into her heat and leave my lips a breath away from hers.

"I love you. I can't tell you enough," I say.

Katniss smiles as she brings her lips even closer to mine.

"You're amazing, Peeta. Don't ever forget that," she says.

And with a big breath our lips finally meet and Katniss grinds down on me. We've had enough foreplay these last few months so don't delay the moment any longer. Katniss immediately slips her hands between us and guides my cock into her entrance. I grunt when I finally feel her walls wrap around me again and she squeezes me tight. How can it have been a whole year since we have done this?

Katniss starts moving up and down on top of me as her lips fall to my neck and lavish the skin there. My hands grip onto her arse again and mould the flesh between my fingertips. She presses closer to me and then starts to swirl her hips in a circular motion. My hands move up to press her breasts closer to me and our nipples squish together, rubbing each other with the help from the water from the bath. Katniss begins moving up and down on me again and I know that I won't last long this evening.

But it doesn't matter. I'm finally sharing this moment again with the girl I love. I didn't deserve her for a long time this year but she stuck by me and still loves me the same as ever.

I angle my hips up in a way I know that will hit her g-spot and Katniss cries out as I do so. I silence her moans with a kiss as I continue to thrust up into her and Katniss grips onto me tightly. My balls are getting heavy and her walls just feel so good around me that I know I'm going to cum soon. With one last purposeful thrust, I hit her g-spot hard and her walls explode around me. Katniss cums calling my name before slumping against me and I'm soon spurting inside of her.

I wait a moment to catch my breath before cupping Katniss' cheek and pulling her to me for a kiss. She smiles into it and for the first time since the accident I can only think of the good things in my future.

* * *

 **A/N: A lot of people were wondering if Peeta was going to get back into tennis some way and you were right. Wheelchair tennis is now going to play a big part in this story and I hope you can all see how much Peeta has improved already!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I'm glad so many like the idea of Peeta playing wheelchair tennis. It's really going to help him find a purpose in life again. Thanks for all the support.**

* * *

 _Chapter 9_

My opponent slams the ball into the net and I let out a small call of triumph. The man hangs his head and I only savour my victory for a moment before wheeling myself towards the net and extending my hand across to shake his hand.

"Commiserations. I enjoyed the match. There were lots of good rallies," I say.

My opponent smiles and shakes his head.

"You got more balls back than I'm used to. You tired me out by the end. Congratulations," he replies.

I thank him but he quickly turns away to go to his family. I'm buzzing from my victory and practically bounce in my chair. I turn back to my own supporters and quickly wheel myself towards them.

Mum and Blight wait for me at my chair and Mum can barely wait for me to put on my prosthetic and stand up to hug me.

"It's so good to see you competing again. I had a massive smile on my face the whole time," she says.

"It was just a friendly match, Mum," I say.

It's been five months since I went to my first wheelchair tennis training session with Blight and I've grown to love it more and more each time I go. I hadn't really realised just how much I missed going to training with the intention to just improve. Katniss often comes back from work to find me scribbling notes down about what I want to work on. And in the last couple of months I've grown in confidence enough to play friendlies against other players. It hasn't taken long for my competitiveness to come back and these friendlies have become the highlight of my week.

"Great game, Peeta. Your serve has really improved these last couple of weeks. You're serving fewer double faults. I assume you want me to set up another match next Saturday," Blight says.

I nod my head as I wipe the sweat off my forehead.

"That would be great. I still don't think I'm getting enough power as I set off to hit the return. I want to do some more sprint practise in Monday's session," I say.

Blight nods while Mum hands me a bottle of water.

"I'll set some stuff up. I don't think I've ever come across a player that is as dedicated to training as much as you. Most just want to play doubles matches," he says.

"I've never been good a settling for the level I'm at. I can always get better," I reply.

Blight smiles at and I take a long slurp of water. But as I am drinking it I hear another set of wheels and a male voice behind me.

"So this is what Peeta Mellark has been doing all these months. There were rumours that you had run off to join a cult. But I have to say, I'm impressed," the voice says.

I turn around to come face to face with Finnick Odair, Britain's number one wheelchair tennis player and current world number one player.

"I'm only just getting started. There's still so much I want to improve," I say.

Finnick smiles at me. He's the only reason people in the UK even know wheelchair tennis exists. He's won nearly every major wheelchair tennis tournament there is and his perfectly quaffed bronze hair and sparkly green eyes have acquired him many admirers. I've looked up to him since I started playing and have spent many hours on Youtube watching him to get some tips.

We quickly introduce ourselves and I smile when I spot Mum touching up her hair when she sees Finnick.

"It's so lovely to meet you, Finnick. I have to say you are even more handsome in real life. I didn't realise you train here," Mum says.

Finnick gives her a charming smile.

"I've been training here since I was fifteen. Though I don't normally get such beautiful women watching me," he replies.

Mum blushes and giggles like a school girl. I shake my head at her but Finnick has turned back to me.

"I see you've still got the same fire and hustle that you had in the able bodied game. Why are you busy just playing friendlies?" he asks.

I raise my eyebrow at him.

"I'm quite happy with friendlies. It gets me out the house. I don't think I'm cut out for life as a professional sportsman again," I say.

"Interesting. Yet you have bought a specifically designed wheelchair for your amputation. That suggests you see it as more than just a bit of fun," he replies.

We both look at my wheelchair. I got it only a month ago but he's right that it's been designed specifically for me. There is even a holder for my amputated leg to fit into and I find it much easier to move around than the standard issue chairs.

"It's comfier," I reply with a shrug of the shoulder.

Finnick laughs.

"You should come and hit with me. I watched you today. You've got a game to challenge most people on the circuit. I think you would only need a couple more months of training to be competitive, though it will take you longer to be able to take on me," he says with a cheeky smile.

I shake my head.

"Thanks for the offer but I don't think I want to go down that road," I say.

However, Mum smiles down at Finnick.

"How about you give us your number? Peeta might change his mind. You've been a real inspiration to him. He watches you all the time on Youtube," she says.

"You didn't need to say that, Mum. You make me sound obsessive!" I exclaim.

Finnick laughs.

"Don't blame your mum. I love being called an inspiration. In fact, I don't think you've shown me enough admiration. It would be really great if you could tell me just how much you love me," Finnick teases.

I roll my eyes but Mum laughs. Finnick then asks Mum for a pen and he quickly scribbles down his number. Mum takes it off him and smiles triumphantly at me once she has slotted it in her bag.

"I'm glad you're a fan of mine, Peeta. I'm certainly a fan of yours. I really hope you give me a call," Finnick says.

I tell him thanks and then he turns to wheel away. Mum still smiles broadly at me and I shake my head.

"You're just as bad as Katniss," I say as I bend to pick up my bag.

"It's because I know you as well as she does. We both know you would love to train with Finnick Odair. You're just scared that it might make you want to take this more seriously," she replies.

I shake my head again but let the subject drop. It's not something I have ever given thought to before.

* * *

I come back home to find Katniss singing as she comes out the shower. She doesn't seem to notice me as she sings a soulful tune while she brushes the tangles out her hair in preparation for Rye's birthday party tonight. I lean against the door frame with a smile as I enjoy listening to her beautiful voice. But Katniss catches a glimpse of my reflection through the mirror and stops to turn to me with a quirk of the eyebrow.

"You look a bit creepy loitering there while I'm just in my towel," she says.

I smile wider as I stride into the room and bend down to place a kiss on her temple.

"I was just enjoying the sound of your voice. It's been so long since I've heard you sing," I say.

My hands move down to Katniss' shoulders and gently begin to massage them. Katniss smiles as she leans her head back against my body.

"You should have heard me in the shower. I was out of practise," she says.

I don't need to ask why she hasn't sung. It's been a hard eighteen months and we've both had other things on our minds.

"Well keep on singing. You know it was one of the reasons I fell in love with you," I say.

Katniss smiles as I drop my hands from her shoulders and step away to allow her to finish getting ready. I flop down on the edge of the bed and Katniss starts singing again.

Her voice has always captivated me and it halts me from getting undressed. This time she is singing one of her own songs and my heart fills with joy. It's been too long.

"Have you gone back to song writing group yet?" I ask.

Katniss stops singing again and shakes her head.

"I've been busy with other things. Plus I've not written anything in over a year," she replies.

"You should go back. Even if you haven't written anything, it might inspire you again," I say.

"I don't know, Peeta. There is still so much going on," she replies.

I know she is referring to me. I've made a lot improvements in the last year and the wheelchair tennis has really helped with my outlook on life. I now only go to Dr Aurelius once a month but Katniss is still reluctant to leave me for long periods of time. I've still not convinced her to go back to work full time yet and when she does go so always makes sure there is at least one person that comes in to check on me.

"You can leave me, you know. I'm not as depressed and angry any more. You can start focusing on you again," I say.

Katniss doesn't reply and picks up the hairdryer to effectively end the conversation. I let out a slight sigh of frustration. I'm not going to let this slide but decide to bide my time before bringing it up again. I push myself off the bed and finally undress for a shower.

When I come back Katniss has slipped into a pair of black jeans paired with a leopard print camisole. She smiles at me as I come back through and then asks about my tennis match today. I give her a detailed run down of my game before mentioning that I bumped into Finnick Odair. Katniss' eyebrows rise up in intrigue.

"He actually thought you would be good enough for the professional tour?" she asks.

"So he said. But how much can he really tell from watching me one time? You know it's almost impossible to predict who's going to make it in professional sport," I reply.

"You always told me that it didn't matter how good their shots were while playing in the juniors, it was the players that had the best attitude that normally made it," Katniss says. "You've always had the right attitude, Peeta. I don't think anyone else would make so many notes in preparation for a friendly."

"That's just how I've always approached a tennis match," I counter.

"And that's why you got to number three in the world," Katniss replies with a smile.

I sigh and Katniss comes towards me and brushes a curl out of my face.

"I think you should train with him. You don't have to commit to becoming a professional and you could actually learn from Finnick in person instead of through Youtube," she says.

I see her point but I'm reluctant to give in too quickly. There is a short pause and Katniss mops up a stray drop of water from the shower.

"How about if you train with Finnick, I will go back to song writing group," she says.

A smile spreads across my face.

"Deal," I reply.

* * *

We pick up Madge on the way to Rye's twenty-sixth birthday party. She looks great in a little black dress with cut outs at the sides and her hair in a messy ponytail. She greets us with a cheery smile as she slides into the taxi.

"You're in a good mood," Katniss says.

"Bran's new girlfriend can't come tonight so at least I don't have to watch the two of them together and regret what I threw away," she says.

Katniss smiles sympathetically at our friend.

"They've only been dating for six weeks. It's hardly serious," Katniss replies.

"It doesn't matter. I'm determined not to mope at this party tonight. I had my chance with Bran and I blew it. It's time I move on," she replies.

"I think that's a good idea," I say. "As long as you don't move on with Rye."

Madge laughs.

"No. I think I finally learned my lesson there," she says.

We all share a smile before the more formal catching up begins

* * *

Rye's hosting his birthday party at a sports bar in Piccadilly. It's noisy and full of pool tables, dart boards and massive Jenga. Some of his friends have already started a darts competition when we arrive and Rye bounds over to us enthusiastically.

"Yes! Perfect timing guys. I need Katniss as my pool partner," he says, throwing an arm around Katniss' shoulder.

"You better get the beer in first. Who are our first victims?" she asks.

"Bran wants a game. But he's not got a partner. Madge how about you go with him?" Rye suggests.

Madge's eyes widen in slight alarm. Although she says she's ready to move on from Bran I still think she finds it awkward to be in close proximity to him. Bran appears behind Rye and smiles warmly at her.

"I'm happy with that pairing. Madge is deceptively good," he replies.

"Hey! Why does nobody want me to be their partner?" I ask.

"Because you spent too much time playing tennis as a kid to ever be good at pool. You just be a good cheerleader and get the beers in," Rye say. "I expect you to be rooting for me since I'm playing with your girlfriend so I will need constant shouts to remind me how good I am."

I smile and shake my head but do turn to the bar.

"Okay. I'll get four beers. Madge, I assume you want a gin and tonic," I say.

Madge nods her head but she is spending a large amount of her energy concentrating on not standing too close to Bran. He continues to look at her with a smile.

"I don't care if it's his birthday, we can't let him win. He still brags about how he beat us at mini-golf when our families went to Centre Parks together when we were kids," Bran says.

Madge grins.

"I'm still convinced he cheated that day. I'm sure he double hit that ball at the end," she replies.

Bran nods his head in agreement and then places a hand on her back as they turn to the pool table. Madge relaxes and they are soon laughing about other competitions we had as kids.

Katniss reaches up for a kiss when I come back with the drinks and Rye is already bending down trying to figure out the best way to break. I sip on my beer as I watch them get started but I'm quickly distracted by some friends I haven't seen in a while and slowly melt into the crowd.

I almost completely forget about them until I hear a loud whooping sound from the pool table and turn around to see Madge jumping into Bran's arms while Katniss and Rye hang their heads in frustration. I decide I better make my way back towards them and slide my arm around Katniss' waist once I get there.

"I take it the dream team didn't make it work today," I say.

Katniss huffs as she snuggles into my side.

"We had a ball for the win but Rye fucked it up. I told him he shouldn't have had that fifth beer," she says.

I chuckle as I give her a squeeze and place a kiss on her head. Bran and Madge are still standing closely together and Madge beams up at my big brother.

"I liked your resilience at the end. I don't think I've ever seen you concentrate as hard on that last shot," she says.

Bran grins wider.

"You were the one that picked me back up after I missed that earlier shot. This was a real team effort," he replies.

"I forgot just how satisfying it is to beat Rye," Madge adds.

Bran nods his head and then places an arm around her waist as they both turn to look at my very despondent brother.

"I think you have something to say to us," Bran says.

Rye sighs and takes a long slurp of his beer.

"Congratulations," he mumbles.

Madge puts her hand to her ear and tilts it towards him.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that," she says.

Rye picks at the label on his bottle and sighs again.

"Congratulations. You guys are the best," he says reluctantly.

We all grin and Katniss wraps her arms around my middle. Rye catches sight of it and downs the rest of his beer.

"I don't even have a girl to make me feel better," he says.

"Knowing you, you will use this as the perfect excuse to get some sympathy from the opposite sex," I say.

Rye puts his empty bottle down and nods his head.

"Good advice, Peeta. But if that's going to happen I'm going to have to move away from you losers. Make sure you drink more beer!" he says.

He then moves towards the bar and by the time he's got there he's already found a girl that hangs off his every word.

"Anyone for darts?" Bran asks once Rye has gone.

We all nod our heads but as we turn to walk over someone trips over their shoelace and spills beer over Madge and Bran. Madge lets out a little yelp while Bran moves his body to shield her from the worst of it. He grips onto her arms tightly as the sleeve of his pale blue shirt is covered in the brown liquid.

"Sorry, mate. I'm always tripping over things. I'll get you some napkins," the man says.

Bran shakes his head as he tries to shake some of the excess liquid off him.

"It's fine. It's an old shirt. I'll sort myself out," he replies.

The man apologies again and the moves away. Bran turns back to Madge and studies her carefully.

"Are you okay?" he asks as he tucks a strand of hair back behind her ear.

She nods her head as her eyes lock onto his.

"I'm fine. I think you got most of it. Let me help you," she says.

She moves slightly to grab some napkins off a nearby table and begins gently mopping up the liquid on his shirt. Bran watches her hands as she wipes but then pulls his eyes to look back at her face.

"I probably need to throw the shirt in the bin when I get home. You don't need to worry about it," he says.

Madge looks back up at him and their eyes meet again. She smiles sweetly up at him as she shrugs her shoulder.

"You would do the same for me," she replies.

Bran smiles back at her and I feel like we're intruding on a moment. Their eyes don't leave each other's as Madge puts down the napkins. These two certainly don't act like they are just friends.

However they are interrupted by the ringing of Bran's phone. They both jump away from each other and Bran fumbles to answer it. His eyes panic slightly when he sees the caller ID.

"Glimmer…. how's the hen do going?" he asks.

He then steps away from Madge and moves towards the door so he can hear his new girlfriend better. Madge's shoulder deflate and she hangs her head. Katniss pulls away from me to put her arm around Madge.

"Another gin and tonic?" Katniss asks.

Madge nods and they both turn to the bar. Katniss gives Madge a little squeeze.

"Bran looked like he was having a really good time with you. Glimmer is just a distraction," Katniss says.

Madge nods her head.

"She even looks like me. But she has bigger boobs," Madge replies.

"You know we think you're the best. Bran will one day too," Katniss says.

Madge smiles and thanks Katniss before they squeeze their way to the bar. Madge avoids Bran for the rest of the night and Katniss tries to keep her spirits up about it all.

We leave Rye at 1am as he and some of his friends plan on heading out to a club but I've been standing a lot tonight and my stump is beginning to rub. Madge decides to leave with us and we all part with big embraces.

My head is a little fuzzy the next day and Katniss and I take longer than usual to get out of bed. We eventually go for a walk to try and clear our heads and Katniss gently reminds me that I promised to call Finnick when we get back. I'm still not sure if training with Finnick is exactly what I want but I decide there is no harm in trying. We set up a session for Tuesday and I feel better about it once I've hung up the phone. Finnick seems very laidback about it all and that helps me relax. I then immediately look up more videos of him on Youtube and begin writing a list of questions for him.

Katniss comes with me to the session with Finnick on Tuesday. As part of our deal she went back to song writing group the day before and she came back with a notebook full of notes. She talks about it the entire car journey to the tennis centre.

"I've only got snippets of songs at the moment but you were right that going has inspired me again. It was so good to see Johanna again and she wants me to help her with the lyrics of her latest song," Katniss tells me excitedly.

Her eyes sparkle in a way they haven't for a long time and she talks animatedly about melodies and base lines. I can't help but smile as I hear her talk and reach out to give her hand a squeeze. Katniss stops to turn to me.

"I told you that I can have good ideas too," I say.

Katniss smiles as she leans across to give me a kiss.

"You do. Thank you for suggesting that I go back. I can't wait to really get stuck into song writing again," she says.

I reply with a grin and then we get out the car. Katniss helps me get my chair out the boot and I wheel it towards the tennis courts.

Finnick is already on court hitting a few balls but he stops when he sees us and gives us a bright smile as he wheels himself towards us.

"I see that you like to surround yourself with beautiful women, Peeta. First your mum and now this lovely creature," Finnick says.

Katniss rolls her eyes as Finnick sticks out his hand to introduce himself. However when she reaches out to shake it, he grasps her hand and places a kiss on her knuckles instead.

"This is my girlfriend, Katniss. I'd be careful if I were you though. She has pretty good aim and can be deadly on an archery range," I say.

Finnick gives Katniss a wink before letting go of her hand and wheeling back.

"I like a feisty girl. They keep me on my toes, figuratively at least," he replies.

Katniss shakes her head and I bite back a smile. Finnick then turns to pick up some loose tennis balls and sticks them in the spokes of his wheels.

"You don't have to cheer for me, Katniss. I would want to cheer for Peeta's charming smile too," Finnick says. "But I'm glad you came today, Peeta. I really believe you've got something. I just can't believe you've kept it secret for so long. You would have thought the fact you had taken up wheelchair tennis would have leaked to the press by now."

"I've only being playing it socially. And my publicist is good. She's managed to quash any rumours. The press would have a field day if they ever found out," I reply.

Finnick raises his eyebrow.

"I can't believe you're this good after only a few months. You keep improving at this rate and you won't have a choice about the press finding out," he says.

I shake my head.

"I've not decided anything yet. I just want to learn from you today," I say.

Finnick smiles at me and then lets me get ready while he practises some serves. I quickly sort myself out and Katniss helps strap me into the chair before she sits at the side, placing her elbows on her knees and leaning forward to watch eagerly.

I wheel myself to the opposite side of the net to Finnick and he gives me another grin.

"Let's start with a hit to warm ourselves up but I'm challenging you to a game at the end," he says.

I nod my head in approval and my tennis brain already starts to kick into the gear. Even during our hitting I analyse his movement and patterns and store them in my head to try and help me in the game later.

We practise for about half an hour and I get an opportunity to ask Finnick lots of questions. He even gives me helpful tips on my serving action and my serving starts to feel more fluid.

But I quickly become eager to play a real match. Finnick hits the ball harder than anyone I have played in wheelchair tennis before but I'm excited to test myself against him. When I played tennis before I always felt I learned the most about myself when I was playing the top players. I'm the one to suggest we start playing and Finnick accepts with a massive smile.

Finnick lets me serve first and I'm amazed just how quickly my brain switches to competition mode and I block everything else around me. All that matters is Finnick and the ball I am about to hit.

I wheel up to the base line and take a deep breath as I prepare to serve. I pick my spot on the other side of the net and then throw the ball high into the air. I make good contact with my racquet and the ball lands in the left hand corner of the service box. Finnick sticks his racquet out and manages to hit the ball back but sends it straight to me. I only have to wheel a little bit to hit the ball back and it lands on the opposite side of the court to Finnick. He is too far away to reach it and I win the first point. I do a little fist pump but know winning the first point means nothing. I quickly pick another tennis ball out of my spokes of my wheel so that I can serve the second point.

Again I manage to get the ball in on my first serve but Finnick reads it better this time and hits it back up the tram line and there is no chance of me getting it back. I let out a little sigh of frustration but try to think how I can stop this happening again. I run tactics through my head, determined to make this match a good fight.

However my tactics are mainly useless as Finnick is too good. He gets ball after ball back and my arms begin to get tired as they pump furiously to chase the balls down. I lose the first set quickly 6-1 but do a bit better in the second set. I manage to hold a couple of service games and even break Finnick after he serves a few double faults but he breaks back immediately and then quickly wraps up the set to win it 6-3. I let out a little sigh as the final ball bounces past me and then tiredly wheel myself to the net. Finnick grins when I get there and sticks out his hand for me.

"Not bad. You need to build your upper body strength but your tactics were right. You just need to keep practising your shots," he says.

"You absolutely pummelled me. But thanks for the compliments. I had fun today. I forgot how much fun it was to try and figure someone's game out," I reply.

"We need guys like you on the circuit. There's not many players that have your tennis brain playing at the moment," he says.

I shake my head.

"Have you been speaking to my family? They all think I should consider turning pro," I ask.

Finnick grins at me.

"I bet it's because they can all see how much you love competing. This wasn't a serious game today but you took it seriously. You can't deny that," he says.

I don't say anything in reply and Katniss comes over to us. She bends to give me a hug.

"That was a lot of fun watching you," she says.

"I lost," I reply.

Katniss smiles as she strokes some sweaty hair back.

"Yeah but you had your competitive face on. It was like watching you from before," she says.

"This doesn't mean anything. I just had fun today and learned something. That's all," I say.

Katniss smiles knowingly before bending down for a kiss.

"We'll see. But today has just proven to me you'll get bored playing amateurs eventually," she says.

We stick around with Finnick for a coffee in the small café at his training centre. He's a massive flirt, complimenting Katniss at every opportunity and winking at the middle-aged woman behind the till. He does also talk a lot about life on the tour and part of me starts to long for that life again. Yes, the travelling and staying in a different hotel every week sucked but I laugh when he talks about the comradery he has with the fellow players and I'm genuinely interested in all the players' attempts to promote the wheelchair game. And I miss the fact I no longer set myself goals that I work hard to achieve. I miss having a purpose in my life.

I'm thoughtful on the journey home as a result and Katniss can tell exactly what I'm thinking when we get in.

"You're seriously thinking about trying to turn pro, aren't you?" she asks.

I pause for a moment but do eventually nod my head.

"Playing Finnick today proved that I've got a long way to go until I reach his standard but I have missed the day to day competition. I always saw tennis as a puzzle. I had to try and figure out the best tactics to win and I've missed that," I reply.

Katniss nods in understanding.

"But I don't know if I'm actually good enough. Plus there would be all the travelling again. We would spend large amounts of time separated and I'm not sure I want that again," I add.

"We made it work last time. We can make it work again if that's what you really want," Katniss replies.

I sigh and nod. There are so many reasons why I shouldn't do it.

"If I did it, I couldn't keep it quiet from the press anymore and I would be forced back into the public eye again. And I would be playing in nearly empty stadiums. That will be hard when I'm used to playing in front of a packed Centre Court," I say.

"But you would be competing again. You've always thrived under competition," she replies.

I nod but I can't make a decision about it now. There's a lot to weigh up and I'm not going to make a hasty decision.

I spend the rest of the week talking about trying to turn professional with nearly everyone I know. Katniss and I spend hours discussing it. Dr Aurelius tells me it's good that I'm thinking about finding a new goal and I even call Haymitch who says he would love to see me competing again.

I keep flip flopping between what I want to do but I eventually make my decision by the time I meet Effie on Friday.

This week has really made me see how bad a client I have been since my accident. I've shunned every mention of being in the public eye and she has done a brilliant job of keeping my exposure to the minimum. Sometimes I've been down right rude to her as she has suggested things and I want to make it up to her. I get us tickets to go and see _42_ _nd_ _Stree_ t at the theatre with Katniss and Effie is thrilled when I tell her. She arrives to meet us for drinks before with us with a massive smile on her face and lots of sparkles around her neck.

"Thank you so much for setting this up for me! _42nd Street_ is one of my favourite musicals. I was actually in a production of it when I was a child. I can still remember the tap routine," she exclaims.

Katniss and I then smile as she steps back and starts showing us some of her tap moves. She finishes with a flourish, using jazz hands and a spin and Katniss and I clap loudly.

"You've still got it, Effie. Can't believe you've hidden your tap dancing talents from us for so long," Katniss says.

Effie grins as she takes a seat.

"I'll be dancing in the streets by the end of this tonight," she says.

We all laugh and then the waitress comes to take our drinks order. While we wait I turn to Effie.

"I'm glad you're happy about tonight. I just wanted to do something to say thank you for everything you have done in the last eighteen months," I say.

"I was just doing my job, Peeta," she replies.

I shake my head.

"No. You've done more than that. I know I have been a horrible client and not made your job easy. I haven't wanted to be publicised and said some harsh things to you as a result," I say.

Effie reaches out to touch my arm.

"I completely understand why you have wanted to stay away from the public eye. And you nearly always apologised for any harsh words you have said before," she says.

I smile in thanks.

"Thanks, Effie. You have done a great job this last year but I'm going to need you even more in this next year," I say.

Effie frowns, slightly confused. I smile and turn to Katniss who gives my hand an encouraging squeeze. I then turn back to look at Effie.

"I'm going to take wheelchair tennis more seriously. Finnick Odair has helped me get a proper coach and I'm going to train with the aim of competing on the professional circuit at some time next year," I say.

Effie lets out a yelp of excitement and jumps forward to give me a hug.

"I know my publicist brain should be happy about this but I'm more happy for you as a friend. I think this is just what you need, Peeta. I can't wait to be part of your journey!" she exclaims.

Katniss grins wider as Effie begins asking me more questions about tennis. It's a little daunting now I have finally committed to taking things seriously but everyone I have told so far has had the same reaction. It's not going to be easy but I know I have the best team of people around me to support me.


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter 10_

I sit hunched over the kitchen table as I scribble down tactics for my upcoming match. Writing the tactics down has always helped me in my career. As soon as I find out my next opponent my head goes into overdrive as it plays through all the different ways I could beat them. Jotting down the tactics is the only way I can slow these thoughts down.

I need to be prepared. After six months of training with my new coach, Paylor, we both feel that I'm ready to take the next step. I've been playing amateur matches up and down the country and have been winning regularly. My confidence has grown and it seems only right that I give the professional circuit a crack. I'm starting from the bottom on the ITF Futures circuit and have my first professional match in Italy in two weeks times. I'm working my hardest to ensure I'm in the best possible position to win.

I'm interrupted from my note taking by the doorbell ringing. I know it will be Effie so reluctantly put down my pen to let her in. She talks a million miles a minute as I lead her through to the kitchen and offer her a cup of tea.

"Tea would be perfect! I've barely stopped all day!" she exclaims.

I smile at her as she takes a seat on the bar stool and pulls out a bunch of papers.

"The press found out you've entered the futures event next week and I've been fielding calls all day asking for a comment," Effie adds.

I sigh as the kettle boils and then make the two cups of tea. Effie eagerly reaches out for her cup as I bring them over and I run a hand through my hair.

"I suppose it was always unlikely that I would have been able to play without them noticing," I reply.

I had wanted to keep quiet about playing my first professional match. As much as I am excited about competing again on a regular basis it's scary starting from the bottom again. I have no idea if I'll actually be able to make it. Apart from Finnick I haven't played any other professional player. Although I know my game has improved in a year I'm still not sure where I'm at compared to professionals who have been competing for a few years. I had hoped to play my first tournament away from the public eye and gage from that where I am compared to everyone else. I wanted to get this first tournament out the way before I told the world my intentions of playing on the professional circuit. Now everyone will be watching and they will be the first to criticize me if I fail.

"Unfortunately I think the tournament organisers were always going to want to release that you were playing. Wheelchair tennis still doesn't have a big profile but your name will bring more bums on seats," Effie says.

I nod my head.

"I suppose I should put something on Instagram. Will you help me come up with something?" I ask.

Effie smiles and nods her head.

I've slowly stopped pushing back on every suggestion Effie has and let Instagram back into my life again. Before the accident I was an avid user of the social media site and would post several things a week, sharing training exercises, my locker room challenges with Cato and pictures of my wins. But after my accident I saw Instagram as this dark thing.

It is full of images of people living supposedly perfect lives and straight after the accident my life felt far from perfect. I didn't want to post photos of me with no leg and on crutches. That doesn't fit in with the Instagram ideal.

But in the last few months I've felt more at ease with my new body. I've realised that the majority of Instagram is fake and not something that we should aspire to live up to. I post less often now and while I still post some of the good times, like playing friendly doubles matches with Finnick, I also post about some of the not so good days. Only last month I had a bad day and wasn't able to motivate myself to leave my bed. Afterwards I posted a quote about depression with a message attached about how no matter how many good things there are in my life there are still days I struggle. There were a few idiots who mocked me for feeling that way but there was a surprising number of people that reached out to say they were so glad I posted it because they felt the exact same.

Effie taps at her tablet as she makes some notes and then looks back at me.

"I'm more than happy to help. We just need to remember that most people will want to see you succeed," she says.

"Thanks, Effie," I reply with a smile.

I then listen carefully as Effie tells me that the BBC Sport phoned wanting an on camera interview.

"I told them that you would be giving no interviews before your first tournament but they still seemed keen to wait. No doubt they want to do a feature on you now that Queens and Wimbledon are coming up," she says.

"Ask me again about it after the tournament. I think my view on an interview will depend on how well I do," I reply.

"Not a problem," Effie says.

But then her phones beeps and something comes on her screen. Effie glances down at it, goes a little red and then quickly dismisses it. I raise my eyebrow at her as the phone beeps again and she gives this message the exact same treatment as the one only seconds before.

"Who are you ignoring, Effie?" I ask.

Effie doesn't look me in the eye as she pretends to be busy with something on her tablet.

"Oh, no one really. Just someone I went out to dinner with recently," she says.

"A male someone?" I ask with a smile.

Effie sighs in defeat and looks back up at me as she pushes the tablet away.

"If you really must know I have started internet dating. It's not always easy to meet men with this job and I've had a little dry spell since Haymitch," she says.

My face breaks into a big grin.

"That's great, Effie! Katniss and I keep saying you're a great catch," I say.

Effie blushes.

"That's very kind, Peeta. I still feel a bit embarrassed for using internet dating," she replies.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone's doing it these days. That's how Bran met Glimmer and nearly every single friend I know is signed up," I say. "And don't let this job stop you from having a life. I can manage without my publicist for a few hours in the evening."

Effie smiles gratefully at me.

"That's very sweet of you though I don't think you have to worry. The dates have been very uninspiring so far. This guy that messaged me got upset when I offered to pay for half of the meal. There are a lot of frogs out there," she says.

"There will be someone out there that will make you happy. And it will just be even more special when you eventually find them," I reply.

"You're a hopeless romantic, Peeta. But you've made me feel good about it," Effie says. "I'm happy as I am and if I find someone that makes me happier then that will be great."

I smile and nod my head before she steers the conversation away and talks about some of the other issues I have coming up.

Effie stays long after all our official business is finished as I make more tea and feed her lots of cake. She tells me all about her bad dates so far and my cheeks hurt from laughing so much. When she eventually decides to leave we part with a warm embrace and I watch her walk down the path. Katniss appears back from song writing group just as Effie gets into her taxi and the two share a quick wave before Katniss walks up the path.

"Effie seemed in a good mood," Katniss says once she arrives.

I smile as I lean down for a quick kiss.

"She's internet dating. I was giving her some tips," I say.

Katniss raises her eyebrow.

"Peeta, you haven't been on a first date in seven years. I don't think you would be the best person to give advice," she says.

I wrap my arms around her.

"But I have watched a lot of romantic comedies. I'm very good with grand romantic gestures," I reply with a grin.

Katniss smiles and shakes her head before we both head into the living room. We flop onto the sofa and I take my leg off, as it has started to ache after a long day, before Katniss snuggles into me.

"How was song writing group?" I ask.

Katniss' face breaks into a huge grin as she turns to face me more fully.

"Plutarch Heavensbee turned up tonight. He went around listening to everyone's stuff," she says.

"Plutarch Heavensbee? Isn't he linked to Victors Records?" I ask.

Katniss bobs her head excitedly.

"He's one of their top producers. I heard rumours he went to song writing groups to scout out new talent but I didn't actually think he would come to mine," she says.

Katniss is giddy as she tells me all this and I can't help but smile in pride.

"He said he liked my stuff, Peeta. He even gave me his card and told me to ring him to set up a meeting. Look!" she says.

Katniss then pulls out a shiny black and gold business card and shoves it towards me. I take it off her with a smile and turn it over carefully.

"That's amazing. I'm so proud of you. It's about time someone other than me heard your songs," I reply.

"Nothing is set yet. He might not like me when he meets me again," Katniss says.

I shake my head and wrap my arms around her middle to pull her close.

"I'm not letting you think like that. Think positively and more good things happen. My therapist taught me that," I say.

Katniss laughs as she puts her hands around my neck.

"I suppose I should listen to advice from a professional," she says.

I smile as I nod my head.

"You're very talented, Katniss. Believe that," I say.

"Okay," Katniss replies.

I then close the remaining distance to join out lips together in a sultry kiss.

* * *

The next morning Katniss and I both wake with smiles on our faces and leave each other with a lingering kiss before we set off for our day. Katniss' mini-success last night does a lot to inspire me in training today and I hit the ball better than I think I have in a long time. I spend a bit of time with Paylor talking through some tactics before heading home to make Katniss lunch.

I even buy some fresh flowers to put on the table for her but Katniss' face isn't as cheery as I thought it would be when she walks through the door.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

Katniss sighs as she slumps down on a chair at the kitchen table.

"I phoned Plutarch Heavensbee today," she starts.

"He can't have changed his mind about you already?" I say.

Katniss shakes her head.

"No. He still really wants to meet me. But he can only meet me two weeks today," she replies.

I furrow my eyebrows, confused.

"Why is that bad?" I ask.

"Because you're playing in Italy two weeks today. It's your first professional match. I can't miss that," she says.

I go quiet as I realise what she's saying. As soon as I entered the tournament Katniss had booked her plane ticket to come with me. And of course I would love to have her there supporting me but I also know that Plutarch Heavensbee is a very busy man and you might only get one chance with him. If she misses that meeting by the time he is free to see her again he might have already signed someone else.

"You should go to the meeting," I say.

"I can't not be in Italy for you, Peeta. It's taken you so long to reach this point. I know you need my support," she says.

I shake my head as I take a seat opposite her. I then reach out to clasp her hand.

"It's taken you a long time to reach this point too. You've always put your life on hold for me. You didn't write for over a year after my accident because you dropped everything to help me. I'm so glad that you love me that much to do that but I can't keep asking you to put my career before yours. I know how much you want to quit the radio station and write songs for real people. This is your chance to succeed now," I say.

"But how will you cope without me?" she asks.

I smile at her.

"Both my parents, plus Bran and Effie are already coming. They can look after me. You need to do this Katniss. Your life shouldn't revolve around me," I say.

Katniss takes a deep breath as she looks at me for a long time. Eventually she relaxes her shoulders and gives my hand a squeeze.

"Okay. If you're really sure. I won't come to Italy and go to the meeting," she says.

She still doesn't look entirely convinced that I'm being honest but I have to stop being selfish. Our relationship has featured too heavily on me up until now. I want to readdress that balance.

"Of course I'm sure. I love you, Katniss," I reply.

Katniss gives me a smile before reaching across the table to wrap her arms around me in a tight hug.

* * *

For the rest of the week Katniss and I keep busy focusing on our jobs. I train longer than normal and speak to Finnick regularly to ask for advice. Katniss has her nose buried in her song writing book as she tries to perfect her songs for Plutarch Heavensbee. I don't mind that we are both busy. Katniss stills curls up beside me every night and we always have a couple of hours where neither of us think about tennis or music.

It's harder than I thought it would be though to leave her for my flight to Italy. I'm heading out there a week before the tournament starts to climatize myself and to practise on the courts there. Katniss offers to drive me to the airport and we spend a long time embracing in the car park.

"I'm going to miss you so much," I say as I squeeze her tight.

"I'm not going to miss your loud snoring," Katniss teases.

I laugh as we pull back slightly and then Katniss reaches up to brush some hair out of my face.

"I'll miss you too. A huge part of me wants to come with you," she says.

"You need to stay here," I say. "Besides, I'm going to call you every night. You'll be sick of all my calls."

Katniss laughs as she reaches up to nuzzle my nose.

"Unlikely. And besides it's been a while since we had phone sex," she replies sultrily.

I grin as she moves her lips to kiss me. My arms tighten around her waist while her fingers take a tight grip on my hair. We kiss deeply and try to remember everything about this moment.

But we do eventually part and I place a soft kiss on her lips.

"Keep writing. I believe you're going to smash that meeting with Heavensbee," I say.

Katniss nods her head.

"Good luck in Italy. I'll be following you closely," she replies.

We kiss one more time before Katniss gets back in the car and then watches me walk to the airport terminal, pushing my wheelchair and all my other luggage.

My parents and Bran are already there when I arrive and Bran smirks at me.

"I take it Katniss gave you a good goodbye," he says.

"What makes you say that?" I say trying to act nonchalant.

"Your hair is even messier than usual and your lips have that just been kissed look," he replies with a smile.

I shake my head.

"I'm sure Glimmer gave you a similar send off," I say.

Bran laughs.

"She was extra clingy this morning," he says. "In all honestly though I could do with a break. I looked around my flat last week and realised she had moved in with me without me realising. She casually announces that she is renting her room to someone else and I now have sofa throws and five different types of cushions!"

I laugh.

"Next she'll be buying the engagement ring for herself," I joke.

"Don't even joke about that. I was out with Madge at the weekend and she joked about the same thing. But I'm far from ready to make that commitment," he replies.

"Was it just you and Madge at the weekend? I didn't realise that you two still hung out together alone," I say with a raised eyebrow.

"Not really. She just got given tickets to see a show and no one else was available. Besides time heals wounds and though I complain I'm actually happy with Glimmer. Plus Madge is dating loads now so it doesn't make it awkward," he says.

I nod my head but decide to not tell Bran than Madge has told Katniss and I that she is finding dating hard as she compares nearly every date to my brother.

Mum looks at her watch and taps her foot impatiently.

"We need to get going. Paylor and Effie are already through security!" Mum exclaims.

Bran and I share a grin before Dad comes over to offer to help with some of my luggage and we all cart it to the check in. Being at the airport again with all my gear brings back some fond memories. I'm finally back competing again and I can't stop smiling at that thought.

* * *

I have a good week of training and receive copious messages wishing me luck. Finnick calls to give me tips while Haymitch phones the room service at my hotel and gets them to send up a pesto chicken salad, the meal I always used to have the night before a match. I even get a phone call from Cato even though he must be busy with his Wimbledon preparations.

"I wish they were showing your match live somewhere. It's been too long since I've seen you competing," Cato says.

"The less people watching the better. There are already loads of paparazzi outside the hotel taking pictures of every trip I make to training. It's a lot of pressure," I reply.

"You love the pressure. It's when you play your best tennis. I still remember watching you at the Australian Open against Marvel. You were two sets and a break down. You were four points away from being knocked out of the tournament but that seemed to spur you on. You beat him in five sets and I was definitely nervous about playing you in the next round," he says.

"You destroyed me in that next match!" I exclaim.

Cato chuckles.

"What can I say? Your tenacity made me even more determined to beat you!" he replies.

I laugh too and am glad I've been able to reconnect with my former rival in the last few months. He was the first person to comment when I posted the first video of myself playing wheelchair tennis online. Now I have something else to focus on I don't resent him for still being able to play tennis when I can't.

"Any way, good luck tomorrow. But I kind of think you are just playing this tournament to get out of seeing me while I'm in London. You don't want to be beaten at ping pong again!" Cato says.

"I lost a leg but my reflexes are as good as ever," I reply with a laugh.

Cato chuckles again and then we get talking about our respective girlfriends. He was always my friend more than my rival.

Later that night I get a notification that Cato has tagged me in a post in Instagram. I click on it to find a picture of us both out at a tapas restaurant in Spain that we went to during the Madrid Open. The message below makes me smile.

 _What a guy! Peeta was always one of my best friends on the tour and it's been pretty hard to find a good ping pong opponent since he has gone. Tomorrow he's back on a tennis court competing and I'll be eagerly waiting for updates on how he's doing. It's been a long and hard couple of years for him but I couldn't be happier to see him back where he belongs. I love you dude #peetamellarkisalegend #tennisbro_

For so long I felt alone but it's nice to know that I have so many people supporting me now.

* * *

I wake up early on the day of my match and have a quick phone call with Katniss as we both wish each other good luck for our matches/meetings today. The nervous butterflies begin to swirl in my stomach as I head to the tournament courts to get a hit out before the match actually starts and I stick my headphones in, turn the music up loud and read through my notes to try and steady them. My coach, Paylor smiles warmly at me once the car comes to a stop.

"You've got the tactics. Just focus on hitting the ball cleanly now. The warm up should help loosen you up," she says.

I nod my head as I remove the headphones from my ears and follow her out and towards the changing rooms.

It takes a while for me to find my rhythm in my final practice but by the end I'm hitting the ball cleanly and the nerves have become the good kind that I used to get before. I take a deep breath as I head back into the locker room and feel prepared as I can be for the match ahead.

Paylor talks through a few bits of technique I could still improve on but it's soon time to wheel out onto the court. Thankfully these courts are pretty wheelchair friendly and it's easy to get to the correct court. The court is a lot smaller to what I'm used to. There are maybe seats for only one hundred people but my eyes widen in shock when I see that nearly half of them have been filled with photographers and sports' journalists. Some of them I recognise from my life before and the clicks of the cameras start as soon as I come into sight. People shout out my name and call out questions but I keep my head down, wanting to block them out and only focus on my game.

I catch Effie out the corner of my eye talking to some of the journalists and batting away their questions. I kind of expected this to happen but it's still a little overwhelming. I put enough pressure on myself without the tennis world adding extra on me. The only consolation I have is that my opponent looks equally overwhelmed, probably only used to playing in front of a handful of people. I make a note to myself to take advantage of this in the first couple of games. If he lets those emotions slip into his game it should be easier for me to break him early and go into an early lead. I then scan the seats for my family and their encouraging smiles is enough to settle my own nerves. I'm ready for this.

I was right about my opponent feeling overwhelmed. He can barely get a first serve in in his first game and I break him to love. I manage to keep my focus though and don't give him much of a look in during my service games. There are no more breaks and I win the first set 6-4.

The second set is a much more frantic affair and we both break each other twice during the course of it. It goes to a tie break and I get frustrated when I lose two match points and then slam a ball into the net to give him a set point. But I manage to hold it together long enough to save the set point and only a couple of points later serve an ace to take the match.

My family and Effie jump off their seats as soon as I hit the winner. I raise my hands in the air triumphantly and the clicks from the cameras go into overdrive again. I let out a sigh of relief as I drop my arms and the wheel towards the net to meet my opponent with a smile.

"Thanks for a good game," I say to my opponent.

My opponent smiles.

"Welcome to profession wheelchair tennis," he replies.

We shake hands and share a grin before I wheel towards the photographers and let them get a few pictures for their articles the next day. But as I turn to them it suddenly hits me what I've achieved. I never thought I would win a tennis match again and here I am today victorious. I get overwhelmed all over again.

I have to wheel away from the photographers as the tears build up in my eyes. I only just manage to make it back to my stuff and fling a towel over my head before the tears come pouring out. I sob loudly into my hands as the joy of finally winning again becomes too much for me.

I eventually run out of tears and manage to compose myself enough to emerge from the towel. I rifle through my kit bag to find some tissues to blow my nose loudly.

Bran cannot contain himself any longer and clambers over the barrier to run and meet me. He bends down to throw his arms around me and give me a tight hug.

"That was bloody awesome. Dad even had tears in his eyes at the end," he says.

I sniff as I look over to my parents and see Dad holding Mum closely to his chest. Mum hasn't even bothered to hide her tears and the sight of them means I feel the pin pricks of tears again.

"I just can't believe I've won again. I think everything could end here and I would be happy," I reply.

Bran shakes his head.

"It's not ending here. This is just the beginning. You'll be back tomorrow winning again," he says.

I smile again and then take a moment to survey the court. In the past I have been guilty of rushing past the good moments and I want to savour this one. I finally feel like I know who I am again.

* * *

It takes a long time for me to get back to the hotel room. The press conference after is one of the longest I have ever had to sit through as it is the first time I have spoken in public since my accident. I then have various post match recovery exercises and talk through tactics with Paylor for my next opponent. My parents also insist on taking my whole team out for dinner afterwards. I remind them that I have only won one match and it's only on the lowest level of the professional circuit. But my parents don't care, treating it like if I had won Wimbledon.

I'm a little tired when I finally get back to the hotel room and want an early night before my next round match tomorrow. But I have barely talked to Katniss since I won. We had a very brief one minute conversation in the middle of the afternoon but we were both quickly pulled in other directions and I still don't know how her meeting went.

I remove my shirt and change into some slouchy trousers before sitting down and Skyping her. She's smiling when she answers and her hair is down in loose waves. I also like the fact she is only wearing a thin vest top.

"You're finally free to talk then," she says with a grin.

I smile as I lean closer to the screen.

"I've been desperate to talk to you since I hit the winning ball," I reply. "How was your meeting with Plutarch Heavensbee?"

Katniss grins grow wider. She can't hide her excitement.

"He really likes my stuff, Peeta. He offered me a job as a staff writer. I'll soon be writing songs for girl bands and up and coming singers," she says proudly.

My heart bursts with pride and this news feels just as good as winning earlier did.

"I knew he would sign you. Your songs are too good not to be heard!" I say. I then sigh and run a hand through my hair. "I wish I was there to celebrate with you. I would have taken you out and got Madge to recommend a gig to take you too."

"We can do that when you get back. I wish I there watching you today. I think I was more nervous about your match rather than my meeting," she says.

"It just felt so surreal to win again. I was sobbing like a baby at the end," I reply.

"I cried too when I found out you won. It's been a long journey," she says.

"It's only one match. I might not win another one but I finally feel content again. Everything is how it should be," I say.

Katniss smiles as she leans back in her chair and her vest top rides up slightly to reveal a thin sliver of tanned skin. My fingers itch to reach out and skim the skin there and my eyes soon move up to her breasts. I can tell she's not wearing a bra and her nipples point out from underneath the thin fabric.

"That top is cruel. I can see your nipples through it and it's making me hard," I say.

Katniss smiles wickedly at me as one hand reaches up to pinch a nipple through the fabric.

"That's why I decided to wear it," she says.

I smile as she continues to pinch and pluck at it and then lick my lips.

We have had Skype sex before. When I was on the tour for thirty weeks of the year it was sometimes the only way to be intimate together. But since my accident we haven't had the need to do it. We hadn't spent a day apart until last week. But now I can't deny that my dick is twitching in my trousers.

I slide my hand down past my waistband and grasp hold of it, stroking it slowly until it is fully erect.

"You've always had great tits. The perfect size to fit in my hand. I love squeezing them and then taking them in my mouth," I say.

Katniss hums in approval as her hand moves to her other breast and gives it the same treatment.

"I love your tongue on my nipples. It's like you paint a picture with it and it makes me so wet," she replies.

I begin to stroke myself with a bit more purpose and Katniss finishes playing with her breasts to whip her top off. I groan at the sight of her dark nipples being exposed to me, pointed and erect. Katniss grasps one of her breasts again and begins to mould it, leaning back to give me a better view.

"Are you touching yourself?" she asks.

"Yes," I breathe. "I'm imagining burying my face in your chest, lavishing every bit of skin there with my tongue and when I've got you writhing enough underneath me I would gently nip and tug your nipple into my mouth."

"That sounds good," Katniss hums. "I would be raking my hands down your back and squeezing those perky arse cheeks of yours."

I nod my head in agreement as Katniss flicks her nipple one last time and then slides her hand down her front. She swirls her finger in her belly button before dipping below the edge of the screen and into her underwear.

"I'd then kiss all the way down your body but tell you to keep working your tits. There is no better sight of seeing you play with them as I go down on you," I reply.

Katniss moans and arches her back.

"What else would you do?" she breathes.

"I would lick all those juices at your entrance. And you would be dripping, Katniss. I know exactly what spots to press to get you dripping all over me," I say.

"Where?" Katniss says.

"Behind your ear. The tops of your thighs. That spot inside of you that always makes you scream," I reply.

"Keep going," she pants.

I smirk as her chest starts heaving and wrap my hand around myself tighter.

"I'd lap all your juices up before going for your clit. I'd lick around it slowly before pulling it into my mouth without any warning. You'd scream at that point and I would then slide two fingers into you," I add.

"Three fingers. I can handle three fingers," Katniss says.

"I know you can, baby. And I would pump them into you so hard that it would only take you a couple of minutes to cum," I say.

"Shit, yes," Katniss breathes.

Her hands moves faster and she's tipped her head back as she squirms more in the chair. I know she is close.

"I wouldn't let you breathe though before I pushed myself inside of you. I would put both your legs over my shoulders and pound into you hard. You would tip your pelvis just that little bit so I hit that sweet spot inside of you. Your walls would soon be clamping around me," I carry on.

"Oh God. Shit! I'm cumming, Peeta!" she calls.

I smile as her fingers must work at frantic speed. I pump myself harder and then Katniss' body suddenly goes rigid and a shudder runs through her. Her arm stills and she leans her head back against the chair.

"I would feel you cum once and then I would turn you over and take you from behind. I'd grab hold of those arse cheeks and slam into you until you cum again," I say.

It's my turn for my hand to move faster and Katniss eventually pulls her head back up to look at me. She smiles lazily at me as she leans forward so her breasts hang more in front of the camera.

"And then I would turn around and take you in my mouth. I'd lick off all of our juices and then squeeze your balls until you spurt hot cum into my mouth," she says.

"Fuck!" I exclaim.

My balls tingle and then I explode out my tip. I cup my hand over the top to try and catch it before reaching for some tissues. Katniss smirks at me as I clean myself up.

"I'm feeling pretty satisfied. My way of wishing you good luck tomorrow," she says.

"You're amazing. I can't wait to play that out for real," I reply.

"Well maybe then I should wish for you to lose tomorrow. That way I get you back sooner," she jokes.

"Don't say that. That thought would be enough to distract me tomorrow," I say.

Katniss laughs. She might not be here with me but I have all the support I need.

* * *

I slam the ball long and I shake my head in frustration. Today's opponent is the ranked two player in the tournament and a lot better than yesterday. Every time I feel like I hit a good shot he hits two equally good shots straight after. I lost the first set 6-3 but managed to win the second 7-5 but it's not going my way in the third.

I hit another ball long and he has break point. I try not to look over at my family because I know they will be groaning. I can practically feel everyone hang their heads when I miss a shot.

I manage to get my first serve in but my opponent hits a great return and the ball has bounced three times before I can get to it. Four points later he is serving for the match and it all ends when I dump another ball in the net.

There is more silence today as the match ends and I sigh heavily as I wheel myself to the net to congratulate the winner. I wasn't able to win another match at this tournament and I remind myself that I'm just starting out. I've only been playing for a year. I shouldn't have expected to win my first tournament but the disappointment is still hard to take.

After I have shaken my opponent's hand I wheel back to my kit and already start analysing the match. I let him pull me out to the corner too much. I could have hit my backhand with more power and with more angle. I should have played better.

Paylor comes over to me and puts a hand on my shoulder.

"That wasn't a bad match. There were plenty of good things in there you just didn't string them together for a long enough period," she says.

I nod my head as I reach for a bottle of water.

"I know. And now I know exactly where I am at. I know what I need to do to improve. I'll get further next time," I reply.

Paylor smiles at me.

"I don't doubt it," she says.

* * *

 **A/N: Hopefully I showed in this chapter how good and supportive team Katniss and Peeta are. They've both gone through a lot but are now in a really good place to succeed in both their lives!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: We have a bit of a time jump in this chapter and there will be quite a few time jumps during the remainder of the story. I'm glad so many people are enjoying Peeta's journey.**

* * *

 _Chapter 11_

 _1 year later_

I tap my prosthetic nervously against the ground as I take a sip of tea while watching the café door. Katniss reaches to give my hand a reassuring squeeze and I pull my eyes away from the door to give her a grateful smile.

"It's going to be okay. And you don't have to answer any questions you don't want to," she says.

I nod my head but still feel a bit nervous. It's been nearly three years since my accident and I've finally agreed to be interviewed for one of the British newspapers. I did hundreds of interviews before the accident and I was always quite good at them. I knew just the right amount of charm to put out but I feel very different about this interview today. Every time in the last year that I have spoken in public I've been very good at keeping it only to wheelchair tennis. But today's interview feels like it will be a lot more personal.

"And I can still the cancel the interview if you really want. I want you to be comfortable about it," Effie adds.

"Don't do that. This is the best time for this interview. There's going to be a lot of hype when I go to the French Open in a couple of weeks and I want everything out there before I go," I reply.

Effie smiles at me before looking down at the ipad so she can type some more notes.

I've worked really hard this last year to move myself up the wheelchair tennis rankings. It surprised me just how quickly I won my first Futures tournament and I have won more often than I have lost. I'm now ranked within the top twenty players in the world and while I'm still not ranked high enough to qualify for the wheelchair singles at the French Open, Finnick has asked me to be his doubles partner. For the first time in three years I will be back at a Grand Slam tournament and the British press are getting very excited about it.

"I'll make sure to shut them down if they ask anything too personal," Effie says. "You're not doing this interview alone."

I smile gratefully at her while Katniss gives me a kiss on the cheek. It definitely feels easier having them both here.

We chat about nothing much before the reporter eventually comes through the café doors. She's not the usual type of sports reporter. They are normally an overweight middle aged man with greying hair. But this reporter is young and female and an arm sleeve full of tattoos.

She greets us with a warm smile and firm handshake.

"I'm Cecelia Mckill and I'm so glad to finally meet you. You've been a real inspiration over the last few years," she says.

I force a smile as she uses the word "inspiration". That word has been used a lot in the British press in the last year. As I have won more matches the press have reported more and more on me and inspiration has been used to describe me in nearly every article.

But the word weighs down on me every time I hear it. I'm being held up as this shining example of an amputee. I feel pressure to be this golden role model to everyone missing a limb and that every amputee should aspire to be like me. But I didn't start playing wheelchair tennis to be an inspiration for others. I did it for my own mental wellbeing.

"I've just been playing tennis again. There are loads of people living with amputations that are inspiring in their own way," I reply.

"I totally agree with that. What with the Paralympic movement and all the work Prince Harry is doing with war veterans there are a lot of inspiring amputees in the public eye right now," Cecelia says.

"Yes. It's nice to know that I'm not alone," I say.

Cecelia nods her head as she takes out her recorder. I look to Katniss again and she gives me a reassuring smile. I take another deep breath before turning back to Cecelia, ready to answer all her questions.

She starts off light, asking about how I got into wheelchair tennis and my goals for the sport in the future.

"I obviously want to end up being the best wheelchair tennis player in the world. Finnick Odair is a good friend but he's been the number one player for too long now. He's needs to be challenged to stop that beautiful head of his getting too big," I say with a smile.

Cecelia laughs as she leans in closer.

"Your presence on the wheelchair tour has certainly raised the profile of the game. But you've shunned the public eye a lot since your accident. Do you feel uncomfortable talking about your journey up to this point?" Cecelia asks.

Effie immediately sits forward and shakes her head.

"Questioning like that makes Peeta uncomfortable," she says.

I smile gratefully at Effie and shake my head at her.

"It's okay, Effie. I can answer that question," I say.

Effie nods as she sits back and Katniss nods in encouragement.

"You're right. I don't like talking a lot about what happened. Particularly the first year after my accident. That was the hardest year of my life and I went to a pretty dark place. I definitely suffered depression and I tried to push away a lot of people I was close to. At first I didn't want to talk about it because I was ashamed about my new body but now I don't like talking about it because I'm not proud of how I acted at that point," I say.

I've clearly surprised everyone with how honest I'm being. I didn't even expect to be this honest but I'm finally at a place where most days I am comfortable with who I am now. And I would rather be called an inspiration for talking about how I overcame depression rather than the fact I won a tennis tournament. I can help more people that way.

"What were you not proud of?" Cecelia asks.

"Just how I treated people. I was very angry and I lashed out at those closest to me. I'd pick fights with them and say things I would have never dreamed of before. But I was lucky that my family stuck by me. They called me out for the way I was acting and I eventually sought professional help. Even then it took me a while to be okay again," I say.

"Professional help? Do you mean therapy?" Cecelia asks.

I nod my head.

"Yeah. At one point I was going three times a week and I still go every now and again. It helped me work through everything I was feeling and I'm no longer ashamed that I needed to ask for help," I reply.

Katniss smiles at me proudly as she gives my hand another squeeze. Cecelia smiles too and I don't see an inch of judgement from her. She then turns to address Katniss.

"It sounds like it was a difficult time. How did you deal with it all? It must have changed your life too," she asks.

Katniss nods her head.

"Life changed overnight. Everything else that was going on in our life was put on hold. We had to move our bedroom downstairs and Peeta was in so much pain at the start. It's hard to see someone you love hurt so much, not just physically but emotionally too. The hardest part was admitting that I couldn't help him alone. That he needed that professional help," she says.

I turn to smile at her.

"Katniss was the one that convinced me to go to therapy. I'm so glad that she did and that she never gave up on me. I wouldn't have been able to do any of it without her," I say.

"You certainly come across as a strong team," she says.

We all share a smile and Cecelia asks some questions about my physical recovery. We end up talking for over two hours and Cecelia makes it easy with a lot of encouraging nods and warm smiles. By the end I can't even remember what I was nervous about in the first place.

We part with a hug and Cecelia promises to send me the article before it is published.

"Thank you for being so honest today. You're easy to like, Peeta and I'm going to be battling to get front row seats to see you at the French Open," she says.

"I'm sorry but I have no freebies. My family all called dibs pretty quickly," I say with a smile.

"You're lucky that you have a strong team around you. And I have a feeling you'll be lifting a trophy," she says.

I thank Cecelia again and Katniss wraps her arm around my middle as we watch Cecelia walk out the café. Effie stands looking very pleased with herself.

"That was way better than I thought it would be," she says.

I nod my head before turning to place a kiss on Katniss' temple.

"Yeah. It's good to finally have got everything out there," I reply.

* * *

I feel surprisingly content on the journey back to the house. It wasn't as scary as I thought opening up to Cecelia and a weight feels like it has been lifted off my shoulders. A smile spreads across my face as Effie rattles on about other press requirements I have leading up to the French Open. I nod in what I hope is in all the right places but I am only half listening to my publicist sitting in the back.

"ITV sport are eager to do a feature on you for their live programming but they want to bring cameras into your house and…" Effie carries on.

But she isn't allowed to finish as Katniss' eyes suddenly widen and she hushes Effie.

"Sorry, Effie but you need to stop talking for a moment," she says.

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. Katniss would never normally interrupt someone but it all makes sense when Katniss reaches out to turn the radio up.

" _This is the place where I love you"_

The sweet vocals of one of Britain's newest popstars floats through the speakers and a huge grin spreads across my face.

"That's your song. You wrote that!" I exclaim.

Katniss beams as she nods her head excitedly.

"I knew it was doing well on Spotify but I didn't realise Radio One had picked it up yet!" she replies.

Effie puts down her tablet and leans forward so she can hear it better.

"I love it! The melody is beautiful," she says.

"Thanks, Effie. I can't believe I'm actually hearing one of my songs on the radio!" Katniss says.

"It was only a matter of time. I've always known you were amazing," I reply.

Katniss quickly turns to grin at me before turning her eyes back to the road. She's been working as a song writer at Tribute Records for ten months now and while a couple of her songs have been used as album tracks for popular boy and girl groups, this is the first time one of her songs has been used as a single.

"We need to celebrate. Let's stop at the bakery in Kensington you like. Cake and champagne are essential to my celebration plans," I announce.

"I thought you wanted to meet Paylor to hit a few balls this afternoon," Katniss says.

I shake my head.

"That can wait. I've got practice with Finnick tomorrow any way. I'll just stay longer then to make up for it. You are more important right now," I reply.

Katniss smiles.

"Well then you know I will never turn down cake," she says.

I grin in triumph and Katniss takes a left turn to change direction and go to the bakery. She deserves to be celebrated too.

* * *

I train hard for the next few weeks in preparation for the French Open doubles. Finnick is still the best wheelchair tennis player in the world and the defending champion of the French Open doubles. I don't want to let him down. At some point it gets let out where I am training and for the last few remaining days I can't arrive at the practice courts without my car being swarmed by photographers. It seems my story has captured the interest of the British public. Cecelia's article is published and I get hundreds of messages from people telling me how glad they were I talked so openly about my depression. When you are depressed it is easy to forget that other people feel the same way you do and I'm glad I made a few people feel less alone because of my words.

The wheelchair tournament doesn't start until the second week of the competition so I head out to Paris later than I would have done before. All my family and Katniss come over with me and I pay for several rooms at one of my favourite hotels in Paris. Bran brings Glimmer along too and she gushes over the romantic setting.

"It's just so beautiful here. We can take walks along the Seine, eat French pastries in cosy cafes, kiss on top of the Eiffle Tower. I feel like this is going to be a holiday we remember forever," she says.

She links her arm through Bran's as she looks up lovingly at him but Bran just shrugs.

"We're here to watch Peeta play tennis. I don't know how much time we'll have for stuff like that," he says.

"We can't come to Paris and not do that stuff. Peeta won't be playing tennis every minute of every day. Surely you've got some alone time planned for us?" she says.

"I haven't made any big plans. Let's just see how it goes," Bran replies.

Glimmer doesn't look to impressed and drops her arm from around my brother's. Bran then turns to Rye and they start talking about good bars to go tonight. I feel a little bit sorry for Glimmer as my brother quickly excludes her. She can be excitable but it all comes from a good place.

Everyone goes up to their rooms and I turn the TV on while Katniss and I unpack. I switch the TV onto the coverage of the French Open and smile when I see that Cato is a set and a break up in his match. He is may not be the world number one player right now but he is always one of the favourites when the grand slams come around. We plan to meet up when we both have an off day and I'm looking forward to mending some of the friendships I had before my accident.

We've almost finished unpacking when there is a knock at the door. I assume it is one of my family and swiftly move to answer it. However I'm pleasantly surprised when I find my gruff ex-coach on the other side of the door.

"Who let you up here?" I say with a grin. "And shouldn't you be talking tactics through with Marvel?"

Haymitch grins back and I step aside to let him in.

"Marvel has picked up some pretty French waitress. I'd rather not interrupt that," he says.

"I'm surprised you're letting him get distracted by that. There were times you banished Katniss when you thought she was too distracting for me," I say.

"And that's why you got to number three in the world and Marvel has only got to number twelve. He doesn't have enough discipline to put in the hours he should. I've given up arguing with him over it. He gets way too defensive about it and always plays shit afterwards," Haymitch replies.

I nod my head as we take a seat at the table. Katniss then comes back through from the bathroom and smiles broadly when she sees Haymitch. She goes over to hug him and Haymitch wraps his arms around her in a warm embrace.

"I didn't think we were seeing you until Sunday," she says.

"I wanted to avoid another argument with Marvel. Plus it has been way too long. I hear now that you even have songs on the radio," he replies.

Katniss smiles as they pull apart.

"Things are good in the Everdeen/Mellark household. How about you though? Glad to see that you have shaved recently," she says.

Haymitch reaches up to rub his neatly trimmed beard.

"Well the TV cameras are catching me a lot at the moment. Thought I better look half presentable. Even cut down on the amount of alcohol I'm drinking. I've managed to lose half a stone," he says.

I raise my eyebrow.

"Who are you trying to impress?" I say.

Haymitch huffs and shifts about in his seat.

"You were always the one telling me that I should treat my body like a temple. It's just taken me five years to take your advice," he says.

I nod my head but Haymitch won't look me in the eye and I have a feeling he isn't telling me the whole truth.

"Okay. Next you'll be telling us you're vegan," Katniss adds.

Haymitch scoffs as he shakes his head.

"Now that would be a step too far," he says.

We all share a smile and then I offer everyone a drink. Haymitch sticks to his word and only accepts water. There is then a moment of silence as everyone sips on their drinks.

"You're looking good, kid. It wasn't easy leaving you when I knew you were in such a dark place," Haymitch eventually says.

"I couldn't keep paying you. You needed to leave," I reply.

"Yeah. But I should have checked in more. You were more than a player that I couched. You were almost like a son to me and I decided it was easier to run away from you than actually try to help you," he says.

"I wasn't accepting help then. It was only Katniss stubbornness that eventually led me to concede that I needed help," I say.

I reach for Katniss' hand and give it a grateful squeeze. She smiles at me before turning back to Haymitch.

"It was a hard time for everyone. We all dealt with it in different ways," she says.

Haymitch nods his head and I let go of Katniss' hand to lean towards him.

"It's in the past now. I need to apologise how I spoke to you back then. I was so angry and I took it out on everyone I was close to. But I hope you forgive me and we can all move on from it. I'm in the next chapter of my life and I'm excited for it. I would love for you to be part of it. We've missed your sarcastic comments," I say with a grin.

Haymitch rolls his eyes.

"As long as you forgive me for abandoning you. You may be too charming for your own good sometimes but I've missed you too. And that firecracker of a girlfriend you have," he replies.

Katniss grins and I raise my glass for a toast.

"To the next chapter," I say.

Haymitch grins as he raises his glass to meet mine.

"To old friends," he says.

Katniss joins us to clink our glasses together and we all take a drink. Haymitch scrunches his nose.

"God, toasting is a lot better when you have whiskey in the glass," he says.

"Well I'm off the booze too until the tournament is over. We can be sober friends together," I say.

Haymitch nods his head as he swirls the water around in his glass.

"How are the rest of your family? And Effie? She must be buzzing about with all this press attention on you," he says.

Katniss turn to each other with a knowing look. It didn't take him long to bring up Effie.

"Effie's great. Busy but she's been doing a bit of internet dating. I think one of dates last week was quite successful," I say.

"A woman like Effie shouldn't need the internet to get dates. Any man would be lucky to have her," he replies.

I nod my head in agreement and there is a slight look of regret as Haymitch talks about Effie. Suddenly his new clean look makes a lot more sense.

* * *

We see Haymitch once more before the start of the wheelchair doubles tournament and he even comes to watch our semi-final after Marvel has been knocked out of the men's tournament. My family are our biggest supporters and Rye and Bran paint big banners cheering us on. Glimmer always looks a bit impatient during my matches as she is so keen to whisk my brother away on yet another romantic adventure. And to be fair on her, Bran doesn't make the best effort to keep her involved in my matches. He's too busy placing bets with Rye to really notice his girlfriend.

Finnick and I draw a reasonable crowd for our matches and it seems like a lot of British supporters have hopped on the Eurostar to support us. It's so enjoyable playing with Finnick and he makes it easy for me to play my best tennis. We easily get to the final without dropping a set and I'm a bundle of excited nerves as we roll onto the court for the final.

Finnick grins at me as we sit in our chairs just before the match starts.

"We're going to win this today. And then you can call yourself a grand slam champion," he says.

"Peeta Mellark, Grand Slam Champion does sound good. You better not fuck it up for me," I reply with a grin.

"Ah we both know it's your backhand that will lose us this game," he teases.

"Don't worry. I'm wearing the same pair of socks that I've used in our previous matches. I swear they are lucky," I say.

Finnick scrunches his nose.

"Eww. I wondered what that smell was," he jokes. "Let's just hope the smell puts off our opponents!"

We share a laugh and then the umpire calls for us to take our places on the court. Finnick and I roll onto the court with smiles on our faces and I feel the most relaxed I ever have on a big final.

* * *

The match goes past in a blur. Finnick is on fire and hits line after line. Our Dutch opponents are constantly scrambling to reach the ball and I use the lob to great effect. We take the first 6-3 and break early in the second. After that it becomes routine as we hold our serves to serve out the win.

Finnick whoops and throws racquet in the air as our opponents are unable to get the ball back on match point. I just sit stunned in my chair as Finnick wheels himself towards me.

"Don't get rid of those socks. They were lucky after all," he says.

I nod my head and blink a tear. The crowd continue to cheer around me and I try to soak as much of it up as possible. If I worried that this wouldn't feel as great an achievement as if I had won a grand slam on the regular tour then I was wrong. It doesn't matter I won this in a wheelchair. It doesn't matter it was a doubles match and Finnick helped me win.

I'm finally a grand slam champion.

* * *

There is a champions' ball held later that evening and it's about as glitzy as you can get in tennis. All the men are dressed in tuxedoes while the women are dressed in elegant long gowns. French waiters wander around the room serving champagne while some of the best French food is served at the dinner table.

I had always dreamed of attending one of these dinners and I'm giddy now that I'm here. Dozens of people come up to congratulate me and I can't stop smiling. I barely touch the champagne as I am too busy re-living my victory as I talk to well-wishers. Katniss stays by my side all night looking stunning in a red sequined dress that looks like a burning flame when she moves. When I'm not talking to people about my victory, I'm sneaking kisses with her.

Eventually we get to the speeches part of the evening and every winner is announced again. Of course wheelchair tennis is still the least publicised event on the world stage so Finnick and I are called early.

"And the winners of the men's wheelchair doubles…Finnick Odair and Peeta Mellark!" the announcer declares.

"I don't think I'm going to get tired of hearing that," I say to Finnick with a grin.

"I think winning is better than sex. Though don't tell Annie that," Finnick replies.

I chuckle but the dinner organisers are ushering us to go to the stage. I turn back to Katniss, who beams at me, before leaning in to give her a kiss.

"I'm so glad you are here with me," I reply.

Katniss smiles as she leans her forehead against mine and tucks a strand of hair back behind my ear.

"I'm not going anywhere," she replies.

I smile again as I lean in for another kiss but Finnick has already wheeled himself to the front and is calling me over.

"You need to stop kissing your girlfriend, Peeta. Your lips are needed over here!" he exclaims.

The translator translates Finnick's word into French and then there is a ripple of laughter throughout the room. I grin as I lean in for another quick peck and Katniss blushes as some people start wolf whistling. The smile stays on my face as I go to join Finnick and I slap him on the back when I reach him.

"You're just jealous I didn't give you a kiss. I've been told my lips are very soft," I reply.

"You didn't even give me a hug when we won. Are you cheating on me with another double partner?" he jokes.

"How could I? There is no one as good and as handsome as you out there. How about I give you a hug now?" I say.

I open my arms wide as the crowd chuckle. Finnick grins back at me and I then lean down to wrap him in big bear hug. The crowd cheer and Finnick winks at them as he drops his hand down to pat me on the arse. There is another round of laughter and Finnick and I part with huge grins.

The interviewer then steps forward and smiles at us.

"Congratulations. I think we can all see how close you two are. That must help when you are playing together on court," he says.

Finnick nods his head.

"We're both very competitive people and want to win but the most important thing is to have fun on the tennis court. I have a lot of fun with this guy by my side," he replies.

"You can tell that you are enjoying yourself. The smiles are still on your faces!" the interviewer says. "Finnick this is your fourth grand slam doubles win but Peeta this is your first. We all know your story and there must have been times you thought you would never play tennis again let alone win a grand slam tournament. Does it make this win more special?"

"I've definitely had to work harder to get here and I think everything that happened has just made me appreciate everything more. Before my accident, losing a tennis match felt like it was the worse thing that could happen to me but I know that is not true. I'm still competitive and want to win but I'm just so grateful now every time I wheel out onto a tennis court. I try to savour every moment and days like today make all the hard stuff worth it," I reply.

I catch Katniss' eye as I am talking and she smiles softly at me.

"I need to thank my girlfriend though. I was in a bad place after my accident and it was her idea that I try wheelchair tennis. I wasn't so keen on the idea at first but she knows me better than I know myself sometimes. I wouldn't be standing here with Finnick without her. So Katniss, thank you for not giving up on me and I love you," I say.

The crowd clap and cheer and Katniss ducks her head, embarrassed but I don't take my eyes off her. Winning tournaments like this is nice but she will always be the best thing in my life.

* * *

The speeches drag on and I'm getting bored by the time Cato takes to the stage. I play with Katniss' fingers on top of the table as she rests her head against my shoulder.

"Congratulations, Cato! This is your third win at Roland Garros!" the interviewer exclaims.

"Thank you. And I have to say this one is very special to me because I'm here tonight celebrating with an old friend. I always knew Peeta Mellark would win a grand slam. I'm just glad he didn't have to beat me to get it!" Cato says.

The crowd laugh and Cato turns to catch my eye. We share a grin and he looks just as proud of my win as my family and Katniss did.

"Of course. You and Peeta Mellark were good friends when you were both on tour together," the interviewer says.

"He was my best friend on the tour when we weren't playing against each other. But it sounds like he has replaced me with Finnick Odair. I'm a little jealous," he says.

I laugh along with the crowd and the Finnick catches my eye and blows me a kiss.

"I managed to catch a couple of his games with Finnick after I finished my practice this morning. I saw points of high-quality tennis. It's a shame that more people couldn't watch the match. Tennis that good should be played on the show courts," Cato says.

I raise my eyebrows, surprised that Cato is using his own winner's speech to promote wheelchair tennis.

"Damn straight it should be! Thank you, Cato!" Finnick calls.

A few more people call out in agreement while others nod their heads. The interviewer looks a bit uneasy, clearly not wanting to get into a debate about disabled sport but as I survey the room I sense that there are a lot of people on our side.

"Wheelchair tennis is certainly getting more popular but let's go back to your match today. You got pushed to five sets this afternoon. Was there any point you thought he was going to get the better of you?" he asks.

Cato answers his question and the topic of conversation is swiftly moved away from wheelchair tennis. But I overhear people leaning in to whisper about Cato's comments I realise that it's not going to be a topic that is quickly forgotten.

I've been focusing so hard on my own development that I haven't taken the time to promote the wheelchair game like it should be. I'm in a unique position in that there is a lot of press attention around me because of my previous involvement in the able-bodied game. It's about time I started using that attention for the benefit of the whole sport.

I find Cato as soon as all the speeches are over and give him a warm hug.

"Thank you for saying all that stuff about wheelchair tennis. You didn't need to," I say.

"I wanted to say it. And everything I said was true. I was in awe of what some of you and Finnick were hitting today. We need to get that on the show courts and show it to a wider audience. I'm just surprised you didn't say something similar yourself," he says.

"I've spent the last three years trying to avoid saying anything that will ignite the press' interest in me. Annoyingly it has taken your little speech to make me see that I should be saying something long before," I say.

Cato smiles at me.

"You may have been the pin up boy of tennis but I was always the one with the brains," he replies.

I shake my head at him.

"Just because your team beat mine in that pub quiz one time does not mean that you are cleverer than me," I say.

"Peeta, you thought Vienna was in Italy. And you travel for a living!" he replies.

We both chuckle.

"How about a rematch? We've both got a few weeks before Wimbledon. And my new coach has pretty good general knowledge. Though anyone would have been an improvement on Haymitch. He is only good in the food and drink round," I say.

Cato grins at me and then sticks out his hand.

"Deal. You know the best pubs in London. And there will have to be some sort of forfeit for the loser. I'm thinking loser has to do a training session in their underwear. I'm sure Instagram would love to see that," he says.

"I'm glad to see that turning thirty hasn't made you any less childish. You've got yourself a deal," I say.

And the deal is struck with a firm handshake.

* * *

After the champions' dinner I head out into Paris to celebrate with my family. I ask Cato to join us too but he's flying out early to London tomorrow so politely declines. Everyone in my family is in good spirits and a lot of alcohol is drunk. Rye manages to find a microphone and starts singing badly some of The Killers and Kings of Leon. Meanwhile, Glimmer is giggling and hanging off Bran at the start of the night. She constantly pulls his head round to give him a kiss and Dad jokes about how he's doesn't want to witness his grandchildren being conceived. But as the night goes on Glimmer draws further and further away from Bran and ends up sitting drinking alone. I wonder if she and Bran have had an argument but then Katniss starts placing kisses on my neck and I forget all about my brother and the problems he may be having in his relationship.

It means that everyone is a bit bleary eyed when we check out the next morning.

Glimmer and Bran look more despondent than everyone else and when Bran accidently steps back into Glimmer she snaps.

"God! You never look where you are going! I'm going to have a massive bruise now on my leg!" she exclaims.

"Maybe you shouldn't have stood so close behind me," Bran snaps bag.

Glimmer huffs and clenches her fists.

"Of course you blame me. Everything is always my fault," she says.

"When have I ever said anything was your fault?" Bran replies.

"How about last night? You blamed me for making myself upset about the fact you hadn't proposed. I don't think it's unreasonable for a girl to think her boyfriend of two years might propose while they are on holiday in Paris!" she exclaims.

"We were here to support Peeta! And when have I hinted that I was going to propose to you? We haven't talked about getting married at all!" Bran says.

"Because you always dodge the questions whenever I bring it up. I just thought you were being a typical commitment phobe bloke but we've been together a long time now. I would like to think that's where we are heading. Don't you ever think about marrying me?" she asks.

Bran opens his mouth to reply but no words come out. After a while he closes his mouth, looks down and stuffs his hands in his pockets. Glimmer's face drops and a tear slips down from the corner of her eye.

"You don't imagine marrying me, do you?" she says.

Bran pauses for a moment but eventually shakes his head. Glimmer sucks in a large breath and shakes her head.

"Then what are we doing together? I love you. I thought you loved me too?" she says.

Slowly Bran pulls his head back up looking apologetic.

"I'm so sorry, Glimmer," he says.

Devastation sweeps across Glimmer's face and she turns away to take a moment to compose herself. She sniffs loudly and dabs at the corners of her eyes. She then takes a deep breath before she turns to face my brother.

"You've wasted my time, Bran Mellark. Goodness knows what will make you happy," she says.

Her blonde hair swishes over her shoulder as she turns to storm out the hotel. Bran looks down at his shoes not even attempting to call after her.

The whole family witnessed the incident in stunned silence and Rye now sidles up to me to whisper in my ear.

"That's going to be one awkward plane journey on the way back," he says.

I couldn't agree more.


	12. Chapter 12

_Chapter 12_

 _6 months later_

I can already hear the buzzing of conversations before I peer around the door to check on the number of reporters in the press conference room. A huge smile spreads across my face as I see the room jammed packed. Every seat is taken and people cram into every available space to stand. All have recorders or notebooks ready to record every word I say.

"I couldn't have asked for a better turnout," I say to Effie.

Her head is bent down over her phone as she taps furiously at the screen. I know she has been in and dated with emails and phone calls about my appearance in the Australian Open wheelchair singles ever since we landed in Melbourne two days ago.

"Everyone loves a comeback story and yours is the biggest story in the game right now. Wheelchair tennis has never been so popular. You are doing a great job promoting the game," she says.

I nod my head as I look back out at the journalists who wait impatiently for me to enter. Finnick and I also won the wheelchair doubles at Wimbledon and I finally improved my singles ranking enough to gain entry into the wheelchair singles at the US Open last September. Since then it's not just been the UK press that have followed my story. Tennis correspondents all over the world have been writing about my rise in the wheelchair game. I've agreed to interviews to some of the biggest sports broadcasters across the globe and with every one I find I get more and more messages of support from fans and more people telling me how much they are enjoying wheelchair tennis. I need to keep up that momentum.

"It's not enough. We still have a long way to go," I reply.

Effie looks up briefly from her phone to look at me.

"Change doesn't happen quickly. Look how long it took the women to get equal pay in the grand slams. You've got some good talking points for today's press conference. Believe in yourself," she says.

I smile in thanks and then take a deep breath.

"Then I suppose I shouldn't keep them waiting any longer," I say.

Effie is backing typing on her phone and I turn to face the door. I stand straighter, plaster a smile on my face and walk through the door with a cheery wave.

Immediately the journalists stop talking and all eyes turn to me as the head of the Australian Open press introduces me. Various cameras click away as I take my seat and everyone seems to lean forward as they wait for me to speak.

"Didn't expect this big a turnout. Are you sure you all got the right room? I think Cashmere Oskapenko is in press room three," I joke.

The journalists laugh politely and I grin as I continue to look out at that.

"In all serious, thank you all for being here. I think this just proves that the interest of wheelchair tennis is on the rise. The grand slams can't keep ignoring the increased desire for exposure of wheelchair game," I say.

"You have talked a lot in the last six months about wheelchair tennis getting more exposure. How exactly do you want to achieve that?" a journalist asks.

"It has to start with the grand slams. They are the four most publicised tennis tournaments in the world and yet it is very difficult for fans to see wheelchair tennis at these tournaments. The first round of matches are always placed on some of the smallest courts at each venue meaning only a hundred or so fans can watch a match at a time. Over fourteen thousand people can watch Cato Muller's first round match here on the Rod Laver arena. And the tournament organisers can no longer say there isn't the demand for tickets to watch wheelchair tennis. I had a huge queue of people trying to get in to see me at the US open. I bet we would get a similar crowd size on a show court as the mixed doubles final so why not let us play our final there?" I reply.

I pause for a moment to let that argument sink in. I then take a breath before continuing my point.

"And don't even get me started on the TV coverage. It's very difficult to find channels that show our games live. Most sports networks show a couple of seconds of highlights if we're lucky. We need to have some of our matches shown live on the big channels. Our fanbase can't grow if our matches are stuck on some obscure channel," I say.

A lot of the journalists scribble things down but I'm not finished yet.

"That's why Finnick Odair and I have started our Wheelchair Show Court campaign. We've started up a website where people can sign a petition stating they would like to show our matches on the show courts at the grand slams. You can find the link to the website on our Instagrams and Twitter and we encourage our fans to retweet and use #wheelchairshowcourts to help get our message out there. We want to get as many signatures as possible to show the tournament directors that there is a demand for our sport," I state passionately.

Several journalists call out to ask follow up questions and the head of press has to jump in to regain control again. Once everyone has settled down the head of press picks someone to ask the next question.

"Do you really think wheelchair tennis can be as popular as the regular game?" he asks.

"I can't predict the future but I don't see why not. We are still playing the same game. We are still hitting the ball as hard and as close to the line as possible. We are still playing entertaining rallies. The sports aren't really that different. At the very least it deserves to be more popular than it is. I shouldn't be the only wheelchair tennis player you want to see. There are loads of other great wheelchair players that deserve this attention to," I reply.

I'm pleased to see a few journalists nodding their heads in agreement and I answer a few more questions about the Wheelchair Show Court campaign before the questions turn to my ambitions for this tournament.

"I'm here to win. It doesn't matter that Finnick Odair is my friend. I'm here to beat him," I say.

Many journalists smile and the head of press announces that there is time for one last question. A preppy young journalist puts up his hand and is selected to ask his question.

"Your girlfriend Katniss has posted on Instagram clearly showing she is still in the UK. Why is she not here with you? Is everything alright between you two?" he asks.

I grit my teeth as he dares brings up my personal life. It shouldn't matter if my girlfriend is here or not.

"Katniss' job is not to follow me around the world supporting me. She has a real job back in London and unfortunately her work couldn't spare her these two weeks. But I don't need her here in Australia to know she is supporting me," I reply.

I struggle to hide how pissed off I am about the last question and any good mood I experienced earlier from the positive reaction to my Wheelchair Show Courts campaign evaporates. I scrape back my chair before the head of press has called the conference to an official end and don't even look at the journalists as I make my way out the room.

Effie scuttles after me and I tug on my curls in frustration.

"I hate that they brought up Katniss! No doubt the Daily Mail will write an article about how we are on the rocks because Katniss isn't here," I say.

Effie places a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"I understand your frustration but you and Katniss know the truth and that's all that matter. Stuff what those parasites write," she says.

I sigh heavily.

"I suppose. I just don't want that to be the main thing they come out with from that conference. I want them talking about Wheelchair Show Courts," I say.

"They will. I'll make sure of it. It's my job," Effie replies with a smile.

I smile in thanks and then Effie turns away to make her first call. It only takes her a couple of seconds before she is berating some journalist for asking about the Katniss situation. I honestly couldn't ask for a better publicist and I trust Effie to make the best of the situation. I decide to leave her to it while I wander to the players' lounge.

Cato and I arranged to meet in the player lounge to grab a bit to eat. I arrive before him and type out a quick message to Katniss warning her that there might be some stupid rumours about why she is not here with me. I finish the message with an I love you and Cato then saunters through the door. We both grin at each other and I get up to give him a big hug.

"Happy New Year! I bet I can guess what your New Year's resolution is," Cato exclaims.

"Well that should be obvious to everyone. I want to be the next wheelchair singles Australian Open champion," I reply.

Cato slaps me on the back as we head to the dining area.

"If I was allowed to bet I would bet on you winning. I saw you at that end of season wheelchair tournament. You should have beaten Finnick Odair that day. And I have a feeling you're not going to let him off that easy again," he says.

"That's the plan," I say. "But how about you? You lost early in Brisbane a couple of weeks ago. Was that just a bad day?"

"Partly. But my ankle is giving me trouble too," he says. "You know me. I always go in believing I can win but I think it's going to be harder than normal."

I nod my head in understanding as we join the queue for food.

"But that's enough about tennis. It's too big a part of our life already. Tell me about your Christmas with Katniss. Did you take a day off training?" Cato asks.

"I allowed myself that one day off. You know that there is hardly any rest for us. But Christmas day was pretty good. We all wore goofy Christmas jumpers, Katniss and my family ate way too many mince pies and Rye got annoyed when his team lost at charades. Typical family Christmas really," I say.

Cato shakes his head.

"You Brits have some weird Christmas traditions. No matter what you say I'm never going to think mince pies sound appetising. My Christmas was a lot classier than that," he replies.

We get our food and find a table in the corner. After I sit down I take out my phone and quickly switch it to camera mode.

"Do you mind if I take a picture of us both for Instagram? I hate how fake Instagram can be sometimes but it is still one of the best ways to get publicity. Finnick and I have officially launched our wheelchair Show Courts campaign and a picture with you will help me get a lot of reposts," I say.

"Not a problem, bro. I saw you posted about that earlier. I've already signed my name on the petition. And I'll post a picture of us both too and encourage all my followers to sign it as well," he says.

"That's great, man. It's good for us to have supporters from the regular game," I reply.

Cato nods his head.

"I'll work the locker room too. Most people still remember playing with you so will want to support you too," he says.

I smile in thanks. Cato has been so good supporting me, often using his own interviews to promote our game. I'm so glad that I didn't lose him as a friend even though I cut him off just after the accident.

I slide closer to Cato and we take a couple of silly photos of us. We both laugh as we scroll back through them and then finally turn our attention to our meals. However when I look down at my food I realise we left the cutlery behind. I tell Cato that I will go and get some and head back to the cutlery trays.

I'm picking up the knives and forks when I feel a tap on my shoulder and I turn around to find a pretty blond in a floral dress smiling at me.

"Good to have you back in Australia," she says with a typical Australian twang.

I smile back as I put the cutlery down.

"Great to see you too, Bonnie. I hear that they have got you leading the Australian TV coverage now," I say.

Bonnie was the on-court interviewer when I played before my accident. She's only a few years older than me and she interviewed me after my first match I ever played here. She has a relaxed and warm personality that made it easy to speak to even if you were feeling dead on your feet. But she was often relegated to the lesser matches just because she was woman. Some of the male interviewers made very sexist comments about her and told her that if she wanted the bigger matches she should wear shorter dresses. I never liked how they treated her and we became friends. I even insisted that she was the on-court interview in my first semi-final here. That small gesture helped her a lot with her career. And now I've heard she is the lead presenter for Australian TV and I couldn't be happier for her. But she is just one of many people I lost contact with after my accident.

"It's pretty exciting and I can't wait to get you in the studio. I've missed your lame jokes," she teases.

"My jokes are not lame! Kids find them hilarious," I reply.

Bonnie laughs.

"Then I will have to introduce you to my two-year-old. Last week he spent half an hour laughing at popping bubbles," she says.

"Sounds like my perfect audience," I reply with a grin. "And congratulations. I didn't realise you had a kid now."

"Thank you. He's a messy little thing just like his dad but I still love them both any way," she replies. "How about you and Katniss? I'm surprised you guys aren't married yet. You go so gooey eyed when you talk about her."

"It's been a long and hard three and half years. Marriage hasn't seemed important," I reply.

"I get that. It's been great to see you back on a tennis court. You haven't lost any of that competitiveness," she says.

"I don't even like losing snap. It's the only way I know," I say.

Bonnie laughs and then checks her watch.

"I have to go now but I'm definitely getting you in the studio. I saw your post about your Wheelchair Show Court campaign. I'll make sure we do a feature on it and I'm going to sign the petition as soon as I get home tonight," she says.

"I appreciate the support," I say.

Bonnie smiles at me and then steps up on her toes to place a quick kiss on my cheek.

"It's been great seeing you, Peeta. I'll be in touch about the studio interview," she says.

I nod my head as she then turns to dash away.

* * *

I don't think much more about my short chat with Bonnie after I have finished lunch with Cato and then head to the practise courts. I dump my bags on the floor of my hotel room and turn on the TV. However my phone starts ringing and my conversation with Bonnie is suddenly brought back to my attention.

"The fucking Daily Mail! They get one picture with no context and then make up a heap of lies!" Effie exclaims.

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

"What have they done now?" I ask.

"I'll read you the headline," Effie huffs. "Peeta Mellark seen cosying up to Australian presenter while his girlfriend is left behind in London. Then there is a slightly blurry picture of Bonnie Bryce kissing you on the cheek. The whole article just starts a rumour that you and Katniss are having problems."

I let out a heavy sigh as I slump down onto the bed.

"The press are an absolute joke. I just wanted to come here and focus on tennis but they are making up a bullshit story out of nothing," I reply.

"It's the world we live in now. Every online news site is under pressure to produce new content several times a day. They create these stupid headlines only for click bait. The Daily Mail will be getting an earful from me as soon as I finish this call. And I would suggest that you and Katniss both post something on Instagram about missing each other so they have something else to bloody report about," Effie says, clearly agitated.

I run a hand through my hair as I shake my head.

"I hate that I have to deal with this but thanks for handling it all," I say.

"It's my job to deal with this rubbish so that you can concentrate on the tennis. I want to see you lifting that trophy next Saturday," she replies.

"I'm going to try my hardest," I say with a smile.

"I know you will. And I'm going to let you go now. I've already got planned what I'm going to say to the Daily Mail," she says.

I chuckle lightly.

"I almost feel sorry for them," I reply.

"I'm a strong believer in karma. If you create shit out of nothing expect shit to coming flying back at you," she says.

"Swearing now, Effie? Now I know you are angry. You used to always lecture me and Haymitch when we cursed," I say.

"Well Haymitch would just swear for the shake of it," she replies. "I suppose I might bump into him here but I guess I'll smell him before I see him."

I smile.

"You miss him really, Effie," I say.

She doesn't reply to that and tells me she'll call me later once she has sorted this fake story out. I thank her again before we hang up and then reach for my phone to see the online reaction from this silly story.

I go onto my Instagram and instead of my comments being flooded about the Wheelchair Show Courts petition I have hundred asking about Katniss.

 _ **The_mockingjay_lives**_ _Are you and Katniss broken up?_

 _ **Enobarialovescats**_ _Why's Katniss not in Australia? Did you break up?_

 _ **CareerTribute96**_ _Think it's bad Katniss is not out in Australia. You should put the people you love before your job_

I shake my head as I scroll through the dozens of comments about my love life. Part of it is my own fault. Every time I post a photo of Katniss I'm opening up our relationship to the public. That just means that the public feel like they have the right to know everything that is going on in our lives. I shouldn't have people nosing into my relationship when there are not even problems there but I opened myself up to it when I posted about Katniss previously. And unfortunately the best way to shut these rumours down is by posting about her again.

I check my watch but it will still be the middle of the night back in London. I desperately want to call Katniss because I know just the sound of her voice will make me feel less angry. But I don't want to wake her. I send her a message instead explaining the situation and asking her to call me when she wakes up. I then scroll through my phone to find an appropriate photo of us together to post online.

I find one from my parents' Christmas party. Katniss is in my lap with her arms around my neck. We're surrounded by Christmas lights and my head is tipped up towards Katniss with a huge smile. Katniss looks back at me with a tender smile of her own and looking at the photo just makes me miss her more.

I quickly select it to share on Instagram and attach a message with it.

 _It's only been a couple of days but missing this one like crazy already. Being away from the people you love is the worst thing about playing on the tour. #thebedistooemptywithoutyou_

I hit the upload button and it doesn't take long for the comments to start come pouring in.

 _ **PeetaMellarkfan99**_ _So cute! They are such an adorable couple!_

 _ **Enobrailovescats**_ _So glad everything between you guys is alright. You are one of my favourite couples_

 _ **Nightlock_is_deadly**_ _Yeah but he's cheated on her._

I shake my head as the comments keep popping up. Most are positive but unfortunately there are always going to be some trolls who live for posting negative opinions. I just hate that I have to use Instagram to defend my relationship.

I put my phone down fed up with social media and turn on the TV to watch some of the live tennis. Effie messages me with a link with a new Daily Mail article that includes my Instagram post and her comment slamming the early story as fake news. The article makes me feel a little bit better knowing that the truth is out there but also know people will believe what they want to believe and there will still be members of the public that think I've cheated on Katniss and our relationship is on the rocks.

Bonnie phones me later as well apologising for the pictures but I tell her it's not her fault. We can't be sure who exactly took the photo and sent it in but I shouldn't have to be worried about getting a kiss on a cheek from an old friend. It's times like this that I long for the simpler times of crappy mobile phones and internet.

I take out my frustration with the media on the practice courts the next few days and hit the ball harder than I have ever have before in the wheelchair. Paylor warns me to channel the energy in the right way. I don't want to hit balls too hard so that they end up out the court but it does feel good to whack them with all my might in training sessions.

Katniss and I talk whenever we can but it's hard with the time difference and the fact we are both so busy with our jobs. Katniss is writing songs for the most popular girl band in the UK and they have an album being released next month. Unfortunately the record label deemed the original songs not upbeat enough so Katniss and a series of other writers are working overtime to write some new material that can be recorded in time for the album release. She often sounds stressed when I speak to her.

"I haven't even eaten yet today. But I've got a meeting in fifteen minutes and one of the band members is arguing over some lyric saying that it's not edgy enough. Their fan base is mainly primary school children. We're under strict instructions from the label that there is to be no swearing!" she exclaims.

"It's sounds intense. I'm going to phone the bakery by your studio and send in some of your favourite cakes. It sounds like everyone could use some," I reply.

"I can't believe you didn't hear my stomach just rumble then at the mention of cakes," Katniss replies.

I laugh and then there is a short pause.

"I miss you," Katniss says quietly. "I never sleep that well when you aren't here."

"I miss you too. The media coverage has been crazy since I've been here and I come back to the hotel every day just wanting a cuddle from you," I reply.

Katniss sighs.

"One more week. One more week and you'll be home," she says.

I nod my head even though I know she can't see me.

"And just think how good the sex is going to be when I get back," I say.

"I'm only putting out if you win. If you lose there would have been no point of you going to Australia and I'll be pissed," she teases.

I laugh.

"Well now I've got some extra motivation," I reply.

I hear someone calling Katniss in the background and she sighs.

"I need to go. But I love you. I'll try and call you before your match tomorrow," she says.

"I love you too. You'll smash the song writing today," I say.

Katniss thanks me but she is being called at again so she hangs up quickly. I then make a quick call to the bakery in London to order those cakes before turning in for the night.

Training continues to go well the next morning and my brothers have finally arrived in Australia when I get back to the hotel. They are watching some live tennis in their room and I notice that Marvel is playing just before I'm engulfed in a massive hug by them both.

"We thought we better be here to keep an eye on you. Make sure you don't get any more kisses from pretty Australians presenters," Rye jokes.

I gently thump him on the arm.

"That's not funny. I'm getting asked more questions about Katniss than the Wheelchair Show Courts petition," I say.

Rye grins at me cheekily.

"Well if you're not having an affair with her can I have her number? She was too hot for you any way," he says.

"She married with a two-year-old. And even if she was single I don't think I would make her endure a date with you. Bran told me about your date last week where you took a girl on a first date to a naked circus show," I reply.

"Now that was an honest mistake. She said she loved the whole Cirque due Solei thing so I Googled circus shows in London. There were only a few tickets left so I had to act quickly and didn't read the part about it being a naked show," he says.

I shake my head at my brother.

"I take it there wasn't a second date," I say.

"No. But I did get the number of the naked hoop artist. I'm taking her out when I get back to London," he says.

"That is so typically you," I say.

I then turn to Bran.

"How about you? Any dates lined up?" I ask.

Bran shakes his head.

"Honestly the whole Glimmer thing has put me off a bit. I don't want to get stuck in a relationship like that again where I never really loved her enough. I'm being a lot pickier," he replies.

I nod my head in understanding.

"Don't get too picky though. Mum was moaning at me only yesterday that she has almost given up hope with you two," I say.

"Why don't you propose to Katniss then? We all know she just wants a wedding to plan," Rye replies.

Bran rolls his eyes but then his phone starts ringing. He takes it out of his pocket and his eyes light up when he sees the caller ID. He turns his back to us as he answers it with a huge smile on his face.

"Hey, Madge. Missing me already are you?" he says.

I look at my watch and then turn to Rye with a confused look.

"It must be four in the morning in London. What is that about?" I ask.

Rye smiles as he shrugs his shoulder.

"I think that's the real reason Bran isn't going on any dates. They decided to take a cooking course together and since then they are round at each other's houses three times a week cooking dinner for each other. It's getting very flirty," he says.

I look back over to Bran and he laughs at something Madge has said. He doesn't even glance in our direction as he gets lost in conversation with her. I guess I've been so busy prepping for the Australian Open I hadn't noticed that the two of them had grown close again.

I shake my head as I take a seat on the bed.

"Whatever you do, Rye, please don't sleep with her again," I say.

"Not a chance. But if they keep dodging their real feelings for each other I'm going to be forced to lock them in a cupboard together until they do admit it," he replies.

I smile and continue to watch Bran as he talks to Madge. He's got such a dopey look in his eyes and I don't think I have seen him smile so much. Maybe this time it can work.

However my attention is soon turned to the TV as I'm aware that there seems to be some argument going on. I hadn't realised that Marvel was losing by two sets and he's just slammed a ball into the net to hand his opponent a break in the third set. He slams his racquet down on the court and then turns towards Haymitch in his player's box.

"Are you fucking happy now? You told me to go to the net more but he's passing me every time. Your tactics suck! You are a shitty coach and I'm losing because of you!" he shouts.

"Code violation for Mr Stenson. Racquet and verbal abuse," the umpire calls.

Marvel just throws his hands up in the air and marches over to his chair. He takes out a new racquet and then bashes the strings harshly against his knee. The cameras pan to Haymitch and he doesn't say anything but looks livid. He clenches his jaw and has his arm crossed over his chest. The only time I've seen him that angry before is when I got fined for arguing with the umpire.

Rye turns to look at me.

"Things don't look good between the two of them. Has Haymitch said anything to you about it?" he asks.

"Marvel has a different work ethic compared to me and I think it's beginning to grate on Haymitch," I reply.

"Well I suppose you were a lot to live up to," he says with a grin.

I smile back but am shocked by the aggression Marvel continues to show. He hits balls hard but with no spin and one only narrowly misses hitting a ball boy in the face. He loses quickly barely winning a point and he doesn't even shake his opponent's hand once the match ends. He picks up his bags and storms off the court without acknowledging anyone.

Later Australian TV manage to catch an interview with Haymitch and he still looks fuming.

"I've never seen a display on a tennis court like that before. He was disrespectful and aggressive. I'm not going to be treated in that way. From this evening I will no longer be coaching Marvel Stenson," he says.

The interviewer tries to ask a follow up question but Haymitch has already turned to walk away before she has opened her mouth.

At least with Marvel's outburst that's all the press are focusing on. The fact Katniss isn't here supporting me is finally forgotten.

* * *

I'm glad the focus is back on my tennis once my matches start. I'm confident now and my tennis is the best it has ever been in a wheelchair. I progress to the final without much difficulty and although our Wheelchair Show Courts campaign gathers steam the Australian Open decides to only play us on their third biggest court. Some would say this is progress but I'm impatient for bigger things.

On the day of the final I sit in the locker room running through my game plan against Finnick for the final time. My family have all come in to wish me luck and Katniss got up in the early hours to phone me from London. But they all know I need this alone time now. I can't get my head in the game with them around.

Haymitch comes to see me though. He decided to stick around after his bitter split with Marvel and has been to all my matches so far. He takes a seat beside me and neither of us say anything for a while.

"You're going to win this today," he eventually says.

"You can't be sure about that," I reply.

"Today I am. I can feel it in my gut," he says.

I raise my eyebrow at him.

"You've come off the booze and now claim to have physic feelings," I tease.

Haymitch gently pushes me on the shoulder.

"You've worked hard for this. I couldn't be prouder," he says.

I smile in thanks.

"I suppose I better win this thing then," I reply.

Haymitch smiles in return and there is another moment of silence. He then helps me get into my chair and asks me to run through the tactics again. We used to do a similar routine in my matches before my accident and the familiarity of it calms the last of my nerves.

By the time I roll onto court and face Finnick I only envision one outcome for the match.

My concentration doesn't drop from the moment the first ball is hit. I manage to get back nearly every ball and Finnick misses a few more shots than usual. The whole match is tight. I even lose the first set but at no point do I think I am going to lose. My first match point arrives on Finnick's serve and instead of feeling any nerves a great sense of calm comes over me. It feels like my whole life has been leading up to this moment. I know as soon as I hit the ball back it's going to be a winner and I raise my arms in triumph as the ball bounces past Finnick's out stretched arms.

I turn towards my family in the stands and they are all going berserk as they jump and hug each other in delight. Haymitch even looks like he has a tear in his eye.

In that moment my heart drops as the full realisation that Katniss isn't here to celebrate with sinks in. But I take some comfort in the fact that I know she's on the other side of the world grinning bigger than any of my family can.

* * *

 **A/N: We're fast approaching the end now! Thanks to everyone who has followed/favourited/reviewed this story so far.**


	13. Chapter 13

_Chapter 13_

 _6 months later_

I remove my leg, rubbing my stump as I perch on the end of the bed. I bounce excitedly as I hold my ipad in front of me and wait for Katniss to answer. My face breaks into a huge grin when I eventually see her beautiful face through face time but her smile in return looks frustrated and doesn't reach her eyes. Instantly my eyebrows knit into a frown.

"What's wrong? That's not the reaction I was expecting," I say.

Katniss sighs and pulls her hair into a ponytail as she leans back in her chair.

"I'm sorry. It's not you. It's those bloody showbiz journalists. They have somehow got my work email address and they have been bombarding me with messages asking for comment on our relationship. I'm just so tired of this shit!" she exclaims.

I take a deep breath to calm the anger that rises up inside of me. We've been plagued with split rumours ever since I won the Australian Open in January. Katniss hasn't been able to follow me on tour as much now that her song writing is in more demand and the press keep speculating about her absence. And if either of us are ever pictured with a member of the opposite sex the headlines always like to claim one of us is having an affair. Only last week I was out with my brothers and Madge and the _Daily Mail_ got pictures of Madge and I laughing outside the pub and tried to make it into something that it was not.

"I'm sorry. I'll get Effie on the case. How long have they been emailing you?" I ask.

"Just the last couple of days but my inbox is full of them. I hate that they don't treat me like a person with feelings," she says.

"You shouldn't have to go through that. Neither of us should," I reply.

Katniss hangs her head.

"I'm making things worse by being in New York just as Wimbledon starts. Me not being in London fuels the rumours," she mumbles.

"Don't you dare blame yourself for this. It's none of their god damn business why you are not here. I know you've got work and are still supporting me no matter where you are in the world. That's all I care about," I say.

Katniss gives me a small smile.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to spend our whole conversation moaning. I miss you," she says.

"Stop apologising. I'm just happy to see your face again. And I'm going to try my hardest to get you smiling again," I say.

I'm rewarded with a bigger smile and Katniss leans forward again.

"I'm sure it won't take you too long?" she says. "How are your challenges with Cato going?"

"I'm sad to say he beat me at table tennis a couple of days ago but I got a win yesterday in the ice bucket challenge. He barely lasted any time in the ice!" I reply.

"Did Haymitch manage to record it? Now he's given up the drink his hands are steady," Katniss says.

"I'll send you the video as soon as we've finished talking. I'm not wearing a shirt so that's an added bonus for you," I say winking at her.

"I'm glad to hear it. I've missed you so much I've been scrolling through your Instagram to ogle over pictures of you shirtless. But I've looked at them all about twenty times. It's about time I got some new pictures," she replies.

I give her a cheeky grin as I then lean back and lift up my shirt for her.

"You don't need to go through my Instagram. You just need to phone and ask and I'll give you a free show," I reply.

"Calm down, Magic Mike. You have never needed much convincing to whip off your shirt," Katniss says.

"You're right. But you always get first request," I say with a wink.

Katniss laughs and I grin broadly back at her. However we then go quiet and Katniss sighs again.

"As much as I love these conversations, I hate them at the same time. I always end up missing you more after we finish them," she says.

"I know what you mean. Seeing you through a screen just reminds me that I just can't reach out and touch you," I reply.

Katniss nods her head.

"Five more days. Five more days and I'll be back and you can touch me as much as you want," she says.

"Oh I plan on doing just that, Miss Everdeen. The one thing about you being away for two weeks is that I have plenty of plans for you when you get back," I say.

Katniss leans forwards with a glint in her eye.

"Those plans better involve those tight navy boxer shorts that make your arse look damn good," she says.

"I'll make a note to include them. We will have twenty-four hours after you arrive before my first match and I plan to make every second count," I reply.

"I've already got a timer on my phone counting down the hours until I see you again," Katniss says.

"So have I," I reply.

We then both share a grin.

"I love you, Katniss," I say. "And these five days can't go quick enough."

* * *

My only consolation about Katniss being away is that I'm so busy with training that it keeps me distracted from missing her. The Wimbledon wheelchair tournament starts next week and I don't remember the last time I wanted to win a tournament so badly.

I fill my days thumping balls back across the net and practising sprints in my wheelchair. I feel in the best shape I have ever been but that doesn't mean that every practise session goes well. Two days before my first match I limply hit three balls in a row into the net.

"You're not going to win Wimbledon hitting shots like that. You need to get to the ball quicker," Haymitch says.

Haymitch has been back on my team since February and he acts as joint coach with Paylor. While Paylor has more experience with wheelchair tennis and technique, Haymitch has always been able to push me to the best of my abilities. His coaching style is very different from Paylor's but they complement each other well. It's felt just like old times having him back and I didn't realise just how much I missed his snarky comments during the grind of the wheelchair tour.

"My arms hurt. I'm getting to the ball as fast as I can," I reply to him.

"Your arms are going to hurt a hell of a lot more in the Wimbledon final so you better get used to it. Push past the pain," he replies.

Paylor nods her head.

"Haymitch is right. You're hitting too many balls on the second bounce. You will get a cleaner shot if you hit it on the first bounce," she says.

"I'll try harder to get to the ball on the first bounce," I reply.

But Haymitch shakes his head.

"I don't want you to try. I want you to do it. Now get back in position and show me you can," he says.

I sigh, a little exhausted from hitting balls this past hour but know Haymitch is right. I won't get rest during matches.

Haymitch hits balls at me while Paylor stands back to analyse my technique. I take a deep breath and regain my focus. I make sure to push off harder to reach the balls while Haymitch shouts at me to keep working..

"You call that faster. I've seen snails move quicker," he says.

Some people might take offense at his words but it just makes me more determined. Haymitch hits another ball at me and I put my head down to get to it as quick as possible. I arrive in plenty of time to hit the ball on the first bounce and it's the cleanest shot I have hit in half an hour.

"You think I'm going to be impressed by you hitting one ball back. Do it again," Haymitch demands.

I let myself smile a little and push off again to get the next ball. I ignore the pain in my arms and focus only on reaching the ball. I'm now barely missing a ball and Haymitch is even smiling.

"Well done. You're finally doing your job," he says.

That is about the biggest compliment I will get from Haymitch in practice so I take it and Paylor calls time on the session.

"That was much better at the end. That's the attitude I want to see in your matches," she says.

I nod my head in agreement as Haymitch hands me a bottle of water. I slurp down on the cold water greedily and then spy Effie approaching the practise courts. She wears a bright pink pencil skirt with pale pink blouse and totters on ridiculously high shoes. Haymitch whistles as she reaches us.

"That is some outfit, Effie. Though I need some sunglasses to look at that skirt," he says.

Effie turns her back to ignore him.

"How was your training today? You certainly look sweaty," she asks me.

"Haymitch shouted insults at me until I started working hard enough," I say with a grin.

Effie's eyes flick briefly in Haymitch's direction and she makes a small tutting noise.

"I've always thought positive reinforcement was the best way to motivate people," she says.

Haymitch quirks his eyebrow at her.

"If I remember correctly, you were happiest when you were scolding me," he says.

Effie turns away from him again.

"I'm not going to allow you to goad me into a fight. Though I know that turns you on. I'm here to see Peeta anyway. The BBC are asking if you can do that interview today," she says.

I nod my head as I wipe some sweat from my forehead.

"Sure. Just let me shower first and I'm free any time," I say.

Effie nods her head, pleased.

"Great. I'll come and get you in half an hour and we can go over your main talking points," she says.

She then turns to Paylor with a smile.

"Sorry for interrupting your training session. Keep up the good work," she says.

Paylor nods her head in thanks and Effie then turns to leave. She brushes past Haymitch without a glance in his direction. Haymitch sighs as he watches her trot off. I wheel over to him shaking my head.

"If you're trying to win her back you would be better treating her nicely," I say.

"What makes you think I'm trying to get her back?" Haymitch says.

"Because you didn't take your eyes off her the entire time she was here," I reply.

Haymitch ducks his head and shakes it but I'm pretty sure I see the hint of a blush on his cheek.

* * *

The interview with the BBC is easy enough and they ask me lots of questions about wheelchair show courts so I'm in a pretty good mood when I get back home late in the afternoon. However when I get back I'm surprised to see a suitcase sitting in the hallway. I would recognise the forest green suitcase anywhere and my face breaks into a big grin.

I put my keys down and wander further into the house, searching for the person I think has arrived. I've barely made it five steps when she steps out from the living room with an equally big grin. I stare at Katniss for a few moments, not quite believing she got back a day early, before she the rushes towards me and flings herself on me.

My prosthetic leg slips a little as she collides with me and I have to reach out to grab a nearby table to steady myself. But once I have regained my balance, I wrap my arms around her in a tight hug.

"I didn't think you were getting back until early tomorrow morning," I say.

Katniss squeezes me tight before pulling back slightly and reaching up to stroke some hair back.

"We finished work early and I got the first flight back that I could. I wanted to surprise you," she says.

I grin broadly as I lower my head closer to hers.

"This is a very good surprise," I say.

Katniss smiles at me and I brush my nose against hers as I press her closer to me. Katniss bites on her bottom lip as her eyes flutter close and I lean down to place a sweet kiss on her lips. The first kiss is brief but Katniss slides her hands up into my hair to bring me closer. She then steps up onto her toes and open her mouth wide for me as I plunge forward for the second kiss.

Her tongue slips into my mouth almost immediately and mine reaches eagerly to tangle with hers. Katniss tightens her grip on my curls while my hands slide down her back to rest on her supple arse. She smiles into our kiss as I give her arse a little squeeze and then I place a kiss on the corner of her lips. I continue to pepper soft kisses along her cheek and all the way up to the tender spot behind her ear. Katniss sighs as I lavish that spot with my tongue and then playfully nip her ear lobe.

"Welcome home, Katniss," I whisper in her ear.

* * *

As much as I would like to spend the whole of the next day in bed with my beautiful girlfriend I'm still only forty-eight hours out from my first match at Wimbledon so I have to reluctantly pry myself away from her to hit the practise courts.

Katniss does come and watch me practise for a while and I have a really good session. Haymitch shakes his head with a smile as I hit a ball hard and clean down the line in the practise session.

"Someone is showing off for a certain someone today," he says.

I just grin at him and shrug my shoulder.

"I don't know what you are talking about. I'm like this in every training session," I say.

Haymitch barks out a laugh and then I nail a smash that he sends my way. I give a little fist pump and then turn to Katniss who is whooping in delight from the side lines. We catch each other's eyes I forgot how good it is to have her here to support me.

I don't believe having a specific person in the stands can make you play better but I absolutely destroy my first opponent in my first match and any rumours of Katniss and I having relationship troubles are put to rest when the cameras manage to catch us sharing a sweet kiss after the match.

My semi final match is a bit trickier and I'm taken to a third set. I even have to fend off a match point at one moment but I manage save it with an ace and break my opponent in the next game. A huge cheer goes up when I hit the winning shot and my family all jump about, hugging each other in celebration. Effie looks equally ecstatic and claps her hands furiously before turning to find someone to hug. Unfortunately for her the nearest person is Haymitch. There is an awkward moment where she goes to throw her arms around him before realising who it is. Her arms drop like lead and she scowls at him. Haymitch sighs and offers her his hand instead. It takes her a while but she does reluctantly shake it. She then turns her back to him as she waits for my mum to finish hugging Bran and then celebrates with them.

I know Effie is still hurt by how quickly Haymitch broke up with her once he started working with Marvel but I still think she and Haymitch are a good match. Haymitch just needs to get his finger out and put more effort in.

I'm in the unusual situation of not playing Finnick in the final. He had surprising loss to a French player in his semi-final and this has meant that many people see me as the favourite for this match.

I get thousands of messages on social media wishing me luck for the final. My story is shown repeatedly on various British TV channels and I feel the pressure to win. Not just for myself. For the British public. For everyone that has lost a limb.

On the day of the final I sit on the end of my bed, hanging my head and trying to quell the anxiety rising inside of me.

Katniss finds me and sits down beside me.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks.

"I can't do it. I can't go out there and win. I'm not good enough," I reply.

The weight of expectation weighs heavily on me and old feelings about not being good enough resurface. The last time I was this determined to win Wimbledon I lost my leg before I even hit a ball. And as soon as I remember that fact I remember all the pain and anger that came with it.

Katniss slips her hand up my back and begins rubbing soothing circles.

"Why would you think that?" she asks.

"Because I have never been good enough. Whenever I think I'm on the cusp of achieving something, something bad happens. I can't go out there and lose in front of everyone. They'll finally see me as the loser that I've been since I lost my leg," I say.

"You are not a loser, Peeta. You never have been. And deep down you know that. Don't concentrate on everyone else. You have always done this for you and your mental wellbeing," she says

"I don't feel very mentally well right now," I reply

"Remember the Australian Open. Remember how positive you were when you won that. Today isn't any different from that day. The opponent may have changed and the court you are playing on but you are the same tennis player and as long as you go out there believing you can win you have a damn good chance," she says.

The passion in her words help ease some of the anxiety and I'm suddenly annoyed at myself for letting these thoughts invade me mind. There's not been one day in the last two weeks that I haven't backed myself but that's the thing about mental health. Sometimes it hits you out of nowhere from the tiniest trigger. You can have a hundred good days but there is always the chance a bad day will suddenly appear along with every bad thought you have ever had about yourself.

I lean forward to hug Katniss.

"Thank you. That was almost as good as something Dr Aurelius would say," I say.

Katniss smiles back at me as she tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I've learned a few things from going to therapy myself," she says. "I'm proud of you no matter what happens today. Remember that," she says.

I lean my forehead against hers.

"I will. I love you," I say.

Katniss tips my chin up to look at her.

"I love you too," she says. "Now do you think you can make it to the practice courts?"

I nod my head. Dr Aurelius always told me to take things one step at a time during the difficult days. My depressive thoughts are already beginning to wane and as long as I break things into manageable chunks, I'll think I'll be okay.

Hitting a tennis ball in practice is great way of banishing the last of my negative thoughts and I'm in a much more positive mind when I eventually wheel out onto the packed number 2 court at Wimbledon. I even have to wheel past a line of people queuing to get in and it makes me a little mad that Wimbledon still won't put our final on a show court. People clearly want to see us play.

I try not to dwell on that though as I unpack my stuff and only focus on what I'm going to do on the first point.

I do end up losing the match. But not because I let depressive thoughts over take me. Sometimes the other guy is just better. I played the best that I could but he was just too good for me on the day.

My first feeling is utter devastation as I hit the ball into the net at match point. For a brief moment the little voice in my head tells me that I'm useless. That I'm not worthy of winning a Wimbledon singles title. That I will never be enough.

But then I look over to my family and Katniss catches my eye. She smiles at me and mouths I love you and that somehow makes the little voice go away. Winning a tennis match doesn't define my worth. I have so many other things going on for me in my life.

I slowly make my way to the net and shake the hand of my conquer.

"Congratulations. You played great," I say.

The French player beams back at me. The hardest part of losing a tennis match is always seeing the delight of your opponent.

"Thank you. I can't quite believe it," he says.

I nod my head but the officials are already wheeling stuff out to set up the trophy presentation. I look on longingly at the winner's trophy as it placed down on the table but I turn back to look at Katniss when I feel the pin prick of tears at the corner of my eye.

She keeps on smiling at me and I continue to focus on her as the trophies are handed out by a Wimbledon tennis club member in a crisp suit and tie. I force myself to smile as I raise the small trophy to the crowd. The crowd are all on their feet applauding me enthusiastically. They whoop just as loud as they did during the match and the on court interviewer has to wait quite a while for them to quieten down.

Once the crowd has fallen silent the on-court interviewer turns to me.

"Commiserations, Peeta. It wasn't meant to be today. That net court in the second set seemed to be a real turning point in the match," she says.

I shake my head.

"I'm not going to blame this loss on a net cord. Pierre played better than me today. He played some phenomenal tennis and I want to congratulate him on his first grand slam win. It was well deserved," I reply.

"You have always been graceful in defeat, Peeta though I am sure you are very disappointed," she says.

"I'm gutted. It's always been my dream to win Wimbledon but I will be back next year even more determined to win it," I reply.

The crowd all whoop in agreement and I grin as I look out at them and soak in their love and support for me.

"I want to thank the crowd for all their support today. Your shouts really helped me to fight to the very end. I don't remember it sounding so loud at Wimbledon before," I say.

Another huge cheer from the crowd and the interviewer nods her head.

"People were queuing to get onto this court today. How does that make you feel to see so many people eager to watch wheelchair tennis?" she asks.

"It's amazing to see this place packed for a wheelchair tennis final. It makes the whole thing more special for us players. The tournament organisers can't keep ignoring the desire for people to come and watch this sport. The US Open has already committed for the wheelchair finals to be played on their number one court. It's time that Wimbledon did the same. I honestly hope that the next time I'm in a final here, I'll be playing on Centre Court. There is no other court like it in the world," I say.

"I think the crowd here would all love to see you on Centre Court again," the interviewer says. "Let's hope we see you there next year!"

The crowd cheer for me one last time and then I roll back to let the French player receive his own trophy. I turn back to my team for one last time and Haymitch smiles at me and gives me a thumbs up.

* * *

Mum insists that I don't sit alone with Katniss tonight and wallow in my defeat. She invites herself and various other family members and friends back to my house and she calls in dozens of pizzas for everyone.

I stay seated for most of the evening, exhausted after a long and emotional day and Katniss stays by my side, her arm around my middle and her head often on my shoulder.

"I know you didn't win today, sweetie but seeing you compete in a Wimbledon singles final made me one very happy mother. I can't believe how far you've come," Mum says.

She reaches out to tuck a strand of hair back and she sniffs back a tear.

"Please don't cry, Mum. You'll set me off," I reply.

Mum sniffs again but also manages a small chuckle.

"I'm just so relieved to be crying happy tears again," she says.

We then share a smile and it's times like this that I remember just how hard it has been for my family too. It's been a journey for them as much as it has been for me.

However Rye flops loudly down beside Mum and it spoils the moment.

"I can't take Bran anymore! If he tells me that him and Madge are just friends one more time, I'm going to explode!" he says.

"Maybe that's all he wants from her," Mum says. "Members of the opposite sex can be friends with each other."

Rye shakes his head fiercely.

"Friends do not sleep in the same bed as each other. Friends don't keep their arms around each other all night," he says.

I glance in the direction on my oldest brother and find that Rye is right. Bran and Madge stand side by side as they talk to my dad. Bran's arm is around Madge's waist and she looks up at him with pure joy as she listens to him speak.

"They are really sleeping in the same bed?" Katniss asks.

"Oh yeah. I went round to pick up an extra suitcase and I found them snuggled in bed together. Bran said it had just got really late so Madge decided to stay over instead of getting a taxi home. But he has a spare room. She could have slept in there!" Rye exclaims.

"It does sound like the lines of friendship are being blurred," Katniss says.

"They shouldn't be blurred! They should just admit that they have feelings for each other!" Rye says.

"Why do you even care so much? Please tell me you are not jealous?" I ask.

Rye shakes his head.

"No. I guess I've kind of always felt guilty for things not working out between them the last time. If I hadn't slept with Madge they would probably be engaged by now. And I want Bran to be happy," he replies.

Mum smiles at Rye and rubs a hand over his shoulder.

"I'm lucky to have sons that look out for each other so much," she says.

"Oh no. Mum is going to start tearing up again," I tease.

Mum raises an eyebrow at me and I grin. Katniss looks over to Bran and Madge and looks contemplative.

"I think I have an idea," she says.

She doesn't expand but smiles at us with a cheeky twinkle in her eye.

"Bran! Madge! Come over here!" she calls.

They both look a little confused about why they are being called over but Katniss gestures to them again and they apologise to my dad before making their way over.

Rye shuffles up on the couch to make room for them and Katniss smiles at them.

"Why did you call us over?" Madge asks.

Katniss grins again and I'm still not quite sure what she has planned.

"Do you want to kiss Bran, Madge?" she asks.

Rye bites back a laugh while Madge's eyes widen in surprise and she becomes flustered.

"What, Katniss? Why…why would you ask me that?" Madge replies.

Madge starts squirming beside Bran and avoids eye contact with him at all costs. Katniss then turns to Bran.

"And Bran. Do you want to kiss Madge?" Katniss asks.

Bran looks equally surprised by the question and starts opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish.

"I…I don't know where this is coming from," he stutters.

The rest of us all share a knowing look.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so blunt but Rye is pretty convinced that you two are perfect for each other and wants you to admit your feelings for each other," Katniss says.

"We're friends," Madge responds.

But the response sounds so automated, like they have both said this many timwa to try and convince themselves it's true.

"I swear if either of you say that one more time I'm going to lock you both in a cupboard," Rye says.

"Neither of you have denied wanting to kiss each other. I think that's a pretty big sign that you're not just friends," Katniss adds.

Bran and Madge finally turn to look at each other. A tiny bit of hope appears in Madge's eye.

"Do you really want to kiss me? I thought after what I did with Rye you never would," she says.

"Wanting you was never really the problem. Why do you think I stuck it out with Glimmer for so long? As long as I was with her I could forget about wanting you," Bran replies.

"I still want you, Bran. Sleeping with Rye was the biggest mistake of my life. You're my best friend but I want more," she says.

"I want more too," Bran replies.

Rye leans back and smiles smugly. I give Katniss' hand a squeeze.

"I just wasn't sure if I could trust you after everything," Bran adds.

Madge hangs her head and nods it sadly. Rye sits back up again.

"Mate, Madge and I haven't slept together in nearly three years! She hasn't done one thing since then that has shown you she can't be trusted. Swallow your pride and allow yourself to be happy!" Rye exclaims.

Madge looks up to give Rye a grateful smile but then Bran reaches out to gently turn her head back to him.

"I do trust you," he says.

Madge beams at him and then lunges forward to kiss Bran firmly. His arms immediately wrap around her to pull her close. They both smile through the kiss while Madge tenderly strokes his cheek. I can't help but smile with them.

Mum lets out a slightly awkward cough and turns to leave.

"I think I might just pop to the late-night chemist. I don't want grandchildren conceived on the first date," she says.

Rye, Katniss and I all chuckle and neither Bran nor Madge notice Mum go. When they finally finish kissing they rest their foreheads against each other and look like the happiest two people in the world.

* * *

 **A/N: One more chapter before the epilogue. Peeta is finally coming to end of his journey!**


	14. Chapter 14

_Chapter 14_

 _1 year later_

Katniss hums as she moves about collecting things for her bag. I don't quite recognise the tune but it's something upbeat and she seems happy. I sit on the sofa trying to summon up the energy to do anything else.

Katniss stops humming as soon as she has filled her bag and turns to me with a smile. However this quickly turns to a frown when she sees my sombre expression.

"Is everything okay?" she asks.

"I don't want to go to Bran's. I don't have the energy," I reply.

The thought of going to Bran's new flat that he bought with Madge fills me with dread. I know what these things are like. They are always loud with people gushing enthusiastically about the new surroundings. There is then lots of small talk where everyone leaves out the bad things going on in their lives and with Wimbledon just around the corner I'm bound to be bombarded with questions about my chances in the wheelchair tournament. But I've had a rough last couple of days and I really can't face everyone today.

Katniss sits down beside me and rubs a hand over my shoulder.

"I thought talking to Dr Aurelius helped yesterday," she says.

I let out a loud sigh as I fall back against the sofa cushions.

"A little. But it's hard to just snap out of it. And the whole month has pretty much sucked," I reply.

I caught a bout of tonsillitis just over a month ago and I was unable to train for two weeks. When I did eventually get back on the practice courts I was sluggish and missing easy balls. Not even Haymitch's normal tough love could break me out of the funk.

The negative thoughts started spiralling just after that. I'm not good enough. I'm useless. There's no point anymore if I'm just going to keep losing. I allowed myself to get into that bad headspace and then did the worst thing I could have done. I went looking for negative comments about myself online.

The sad thing was it didn't even take that long to find those comments. I read countless messages mocking me for only have one leg and slamming me for trying to promote wheelchair tennis.

 _ **Iamking692**_ _He should go as a pirate at Halloween. He's got the peg leg sorted!_

 _ **District2untilIdie**_ _PeetaMellark needs to stop banging on about wheelchair tennis. It's a shit sport and no one wants to watch it._

Katniss eventually found me scrolling through the comments yesterday morning and she took my phone off me until I agreed to call Dr Aurelius.

"What would you want to do instead? I can call Bran and say we're not coming. They would both understand. And we've seen the flat already anyway," she says.

"I wish he didn't have to understand. I wish I was happy enough to go to my brother's flat warming!" I exclaim.

"What can I do to help you right now, Peeta? I'm not sure what it is you want," Katniss replies.

I sigh as I run a hand through my hair.

"I don't know what it is I want either. I just want to feel a bit better," I say.

If Katniss is frustrated by my vague answer she doesn't show it. Instead she sits looking at me contemplatively for a long moment. After a while she gets up and disappears into the hallway without saying a word. When she eventually comes back through she is clutches a pile of letters. I recognise the letters to be part of my fan mail but I haven't been in the mood to look at any for a couple of weeks.

"I could list all the good things that you have going on in your life right now but I know you are not in the mood to hear them from me. I thought I could maybe show you what you mean to other people," she says.

She then peels off the letter from the top of the pile and I notice it has childish handwriting on front of the already torn envelope.

"Effie has still been keeping on top of your fan mail and I know she really wants you to read this one. I think now is the right time to read it," she says.

I take the letter off her but don't really want to read another letter wishing me good luck. That's when I start putting pressure on myself.

But when I pull the letter out there is a simple picture of me in my wheelchair holding up the Wimbledon trophy and in the crowd there is image of small boy in a wheelchair too, cheering me on loudly.

 _Dear Peeta Mellark,_

 _My name is Thomas Blight and I am 8 years old. You are my favourite sports person. I hope you win Wimbledon this year._

 _I lost my leg just like you. I got meningitis last year and they had to take it off to save my life. I was very sad when it happened because I thought I would never do sport again. But my dad showed me videos of you playing wheelchair tennis and I realised I could. I've been playing wheelchair tennis for three months and I love it! All my friends think it is cool I can play tennis like you. We had to do a report at school on someone we admired and I chose you. My teacher really liked it!_

 _I try to watch all your matches that are on TV and have made a banner at home to cheer you on at Wimbledon._

 _From your number 1 fan,_

 _Thomas_

I finish reading and a small smile spreads across my face.

"I helped make that little boy feel better even though I never met him," I say.

Katniss nods her head.

"That's the beauty of sport and television. It reaches millions of people," she replies.

I nod my head. I've received letters similar to this one telling me what an inspiration I've been to them but this is the youngest person to have written to me like this and it has a greater effect on me than any of the others.

"I want to write back to him. Do you think I could get him invited to Wimbledon?" I ask.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," Katniss says with a smile.

I nod my head before getting up to find a pen and paper. I have a focus now. I can help make a little boy even happier and in doing so I might also feel a little bit happier myself.

* * *

The next day I wake up feeling better than I did the day before and I think I've finally turned the corner and got back on the right track. I meet Haymitch and Effie in the morning for an important meeting with the Wimbledon tournament organisers.

Haymitch is actually early for once and holds a small paper bag containing some sort of food when I arrive. Effie arrive last holding a mountain of papers and struggles to handle them as well as carrying her huge handbag.

Haymitch puts down the small bag of food and sticks his arms out for Effie.

"Here. Let me take some of them," he says.

Effie takes a tighter grip on them as she manages to catch a sheet that flutters to the ground.

"I am quite alright. I don't need a man to carry things for me," she says.

Haymitch sighs but doesn't take his hands away.

"Stop being stubborn. I know you don't but I'm offering to help so let me help you," he says.

Effie sighs but a few more papers almost topple out of her grip so she reluctantly concedes. She tucks the papers under her chin as she tries to arrange them into a neat pile before handing them to Haymitch.

He smiles at her and the pushes the bag of food nearer to her.

"And I got you a blueberry muffin. I know you won't have eaten yet this morning," he says.

Effie blushes as she bends down to swipe the bag of food. Blueberry muffins are her favourite and I don't think it was a coincidence that Haymitch chose that one.

Effie carefully removes the muffin and peels the wrapper down to take a nipple of it. However it doesn't take long for her hunger to overtake her and she starts wolfing it down.

"Thank you," she reluctantly says as she wipes crumbs off the corner of her mouth.

Haymitch grins and for once doesn't make a smart comment.

"You're welcome," he replies.

I smile at the two of them but turn to look at Effie.

"Why have you got so many papers anyway?" I ask.

"They are mainly sponsorship contracts for you. We need to talk about them but I also thought if I brought them to this meeting the tournament could see how in demand you and wheelchair tennis are and it would help convince them to put the final on Centre Court," she says.

"That's a great idea," I say.

"Well you asked me to come along for a reason. I'm good at selling, Peeta," she says.

I nod my head in agreement.

"I'm just annoyed my briefcase broke on the way here so I don't have anything to contain all the papers in!" she exclaims.

I smile at her sympathetically but Haymitch looks at his watch and suggest we go inside. I nod in agreement and we follow him through.

I asked for a meeting with the tournament organisers to try and finally convince them to play the wheelchair singles finals on Centre Court. The three other Grand Slams have already done this and it's just Wimbledon that remains behind the times. I brought Effie and Haymitch along with me for back-up. Effie is right in saying that she is good at selling stuff and Haymitch is great at taking no bullshit.

I'm still nervous though and spend a long time straightening my tie as we wait to go in. My leg jiggles up and down and Haymitch turns to scowl at me.

"Can you stop that? I don't want to have to punch you just before we go in," he says.

"Sorry," I reply as I try to keep my leg under control.

Effie is focusing on sorting the papers again and Haymitch then turns to do something on his phone. I look up at the clock watching the second hand tick as the time for our meeting draws closer.

Finally the second hand reaches the twelve and the tournament director steps out of his office. He wears his green and purple Wimbledon members tie and smiles at us as he shakes our hands.

"So glad we are finally having this meeting. I think it's been long overdue," he says.

I nod my head and the turn to Effie. It's a promising start and she nods her head in agreement. We then all follow him through and take a seat.

"Your journey really has been remarkable, Peeta. I've had more people asking me if I can get them tickets to see you than Cato Muellar!" he exclaims.

"That's great to hear. I certainly feel there is a lot of buzz about wheelchair tennis at the moment," I begin.

I then open my mouth to reel off some statistics about crowd growth for our matches but the tournament director puts out his hand to stop me.

"I'm going to cut straight to the chase, Peeta," he says.

I gulp and my hands get sweaty. He surely can't reject us without hearing us speak.

"We're going to announce tomorrow that the singles wheelchair finals will be played on Centre Court. Both finals will start at 11am. The men's wheelchair final will take place on Saturday before the regular women's final and the women's wheelchair final will take place on the Sunday before the regular men's final. Everyone who got tickets for Centre Court on Finals Day will get to see the wheelchair finals as well," he says.

I'm stunned into silence at first. Surely it can't be that easy. Wimbledon has resisted for years saying there wasn't the demand or the logistics of it were too difficult. But I've not had to say anything to convince them.

The tournament director chuckles at our stunned silence.

"I can see I have surprised you but I can't ignore what the fans want. That petition you started ended up having over a million people sign it. People want to see it and it's always been part of my job to give the fans what they want," he says.

I finally find my words and sit forwards towards him.

"Thank you. This means so much for our sport. Centre Court is the best court in the world and to play on it is something special. It's really going to help our sport reach even more people," I say.

"It's my pleasure. You and Finnick Odair have been relentless in your quest for this. It's a shame I couldn't meet him here today as well," he says.

"He wanted to come but he had family commitments," I say. "Though this is going to make his whole year."

The tournament director smiles at us again.

"I'm sure I'll see him once the tournament starts," he says. "Now I'm going to let go so you can share the happy news with him."

I nod my head eagerly and we all stand up to shake hands.

"I feel a handshake is not enough. Can I hug you?" I ask with a smile.

The tournament director grins at me and opens his arms.

"Sure. Why not?" he says.

I then step forward to give him a warm embrace while Effie gushes over the importance of this moment. I catch Haymitch's eye over the director's shoulder and he tips my head in congratulations. It takes us all a while to get out the office but once we finally exit the three of us stand in a circle and grin stupidly at each other.

"We did it. We actually did it," I say.

Haymitch claps me on the back.

"Now we just need to make sure you get to that final three Saturdays from now," he says.

* * *

The final comes around quickly and I play really well to get there. Apart from a small blip in the first set of my semi-final I am never behind in a match and I can sense the excitement in the crowd when I hit an ace on match point. However I try to manage my own excitement. I was in the same position last year and didn't end up winning the trophy. And this year I'm up against Finnick. He knows how to win this thing.

The morning of the final I am swamped with well-wishers. Mum hugs me for a full five minutes as she lists all the things she is proud of me. My brothers slap me on the back and tell me that they will still love me even if I lose and Cato comes to visit and tell me he is more nervous about my final than his own the next day.

But the person I'm most happy to see is Thomas, the 8-year-old boy who wrote to me. His parents wheel him into the locker room in his wheelchair and his eyes are wide with excitement. He looks around the locker room in awe and giddily bounces up and down on his chair.

"This is so cool! Do you always have to get changed in the same bit?" he asks.

"Tennis players are very superstitious. I always have to sit on this bench when I get ready. And if I win I wear the same pair of socks in my next match," I reply.

Thomas screws up his nose.

"Eww! Don't your feet stink?" he asks.

I chuckle.

"I do wash them after the match so they don't smell too bad," I reply.

Thomas nods his head and cranes his head round to study the locker room more carefully.

"Thank you for inviting me here. I've never seen a real tennis match before," he says.

"Well you're going to have one of the best seats in the house. You'll be in front row on Centre Court. I might look to you to check I'm doing alright," I say.

"You won't need my help. Finnick Odair is good and all but you're better. I think you're going to win," he replies.

"I hope so, And if I do I'll let you touch the trophy," I say.

Thomas' eyes widen in excitement.

"That would be awesome! Everyone would be so jealous of me at school!" he exclaims.

I smile at him again before asking some questions about his friends and what he likes at school. I get the sense that it frustrates him that he can't do all the sports his friends can but wheelchair tennis has helped him feel more active again.

I like talking to Thomas and it takes my mind off some of the nerves I feel before a match. I should do more of this type of thing in the future. I can already see how much of a difference this has made to Thomas. He becomes more animated as he becomes more confident talking to me and it helps that I have been through similar things to him.

"I have a prosthetic but I'm finding it really hard to walk on it. I keep falling over like an idiot," he says.

I lean in closer to him.

"I'll let you into a secret. I fell over all the time when I was learning to walk again. One time I was even trying to pee and I got pee all over the bathroom ceiling," I reply.

Thomas giggles.

"It took me six months to learn to walk properly again," I say.

"Really?" Thomas asks. "But you're an athlete. Surely it was easy for you."

I shake my head.

"No. It was really hard and I even cried a few times because it was so hard. But I kept working and eventually I managed to do it," I say.

"You cried?" Thomas asks.

"I cried all the time when I lost my leg. I was really sad after it happened," I say.

"Me too," Thomas admits. "I still get sad sometimes."

"I get sad sometimes too. It's alright to be sad about it at times," I reply.

Thomas nods his head and a new determination comes into his eyes.

"I'm going to keep trying with my prosthetic. I've only had it for two months," he says.

"Then you have got loads of time to get used to it! I bet you learn to walker quicker than me!" I declare.

Thomas smiles at me but then Effie comes in and tells Thomas he needs to go. Thomas looks a little disappointed but I promise to talk to him after the match. However Thomas' mum stops to talk to me on the way out.

"Thank you. He's been so excited to meet you and I think he needed to hear that you found it hard too," she says.

"No problem. I loved meeting him. He seems like a great kid. I really hope he doesn't give up on the walking thing," I reply.

His mum nods her head and thanks me again before following her son out.

Effie stays in the locker room typing something on her phone and doesn't look up at me as she speaks.

"Haymitch and Paylor are just coming for your last coaching talk. Forty minutes and you're on," she says.

I nod my head.

"I think I'm ready," I say.

Effie nods her head as she continues to type messages on her phones and I notice she has a new purple leather brief case with her initials on it.

"That's a nice briefcase. Glad you manage to get a replacement," I say.

Effie glances down at it with a smile.

"Haymitch got me it. Isn't it wonderful!" she says.

I nod my head in agreement and smile. A year ago she wouldn't have accepted that gift from Haymitch.

And as if he could hear us talking about him, Haymitch strolls in with Paylor. While Paylor comes straight to me to talk tactics, Haymitch saunters over to Effie with a bright smile.

"Can you drag your eyes away from your phone long enough to say hello to me?" he asks.

Surprisingly Effie smiles as she pulls her eyes up to him.

"Hello, Haymitch. Though we saw each other five minutes ago," she replies.

"Was it really that long ago?" he replies with a cheeky grin.

Effie laughs softly and I shake my head.

"You can flirt later, Haymitch. I have a Wimbledon singles final to win," I call over.

Effie and Haymitch share one last smile before he joins me and Paylor.

* * *

As soon as Paylor and Haymitch leave the nerves really kick in. The part just before we go on court it always the worst. As soon as I hit a ball I feel okay again. I make sure I'm strapped in securely in my chair and then one of the groundsmen comes to offer to hold my bags. I give them to him and take a deep breath as he leads me out the locker room.

I meet Finnick in the hallway and he grins widely at me.

"We finally made it to Centre Court. I feel like I have won already," he says.

I nod my head. I played on Centre Court before my accident but Finnick never has. I think every player dreams of playing on this court and the fact wheelchair tennis is now being played on it is monumental. Because of Finnick and I hundreds of other wheelchair players will get to experience the specialness of playing on this court. Maybe one day even Thomas will play on here too.

"Good luck," I say to Finnick. "I'll buy you a beer no matter what happens."

"Good luck to you too. I can't imagine experiencing this with anyone else," he replies.

We share one last smile before someone comes to tell us that it's time. The groundsmen carrying our bags walk behind as we both wheel our way to Centre Court.

As soon as we wheel out into the open the crowd go wild. I look up in disbelief to find Centre Court almost full. Thousands of people wear red, white and blue, waving small union jacks and painted flags on their cheeks. Some people have banners supporting me, others Finnick. Everyone rises to their feet as we come out and I stick my hand up to wave to them. This causes the roar to grow louder and my heart clenches. There must be nearly fourteen thousand people in here. Fourteen thousand people who have come to watch wheelchair tennis.

The thought is a little overwhelming and I quickly look to my box to calm myself. Everyone in my box is clapping loudly along with the crowd but I think Cato is the loudest of them all. I can't believe he's taken time out the day before his own final to watch me. But as usual it is Katniss that calms me the most. We manage to catch each other's eye and she mouths "You've got this." That's all I need to forget about the crowd and focus on my game.

Finnick wins the toss and ops to serve first. A great hush falls around the stadium as he throws the ball high in the air to hit it. But he doesn't manage to get it over the net. I wheel back to change my position and he quickly throws his arm back for a second serve. This time he gets it over and I hit it back to his forehand. Finnick returns it but the ball lands in the middle of the court and bounces up perfectly onto my racquet. I hit it sweetly and hard to the left hand corner of the court and while Finnick reaches it by the second bounce he can't get it back over the net.

"Love-fifteen," the umpire calls.

I do a little fist pump as the crowd cheer. It's always good to win the first point and I hope it is a good omen.

However Finnick responds with an ace down the tee and I swipe my racquet in the air a little in frustration that I didn't read it. But then I knew this was never going to be an easy match.

The match is very nip and tuck in the first set. Neither of us string together a long period of dominance but we both hold our serves. Any time either of us get a break point the other saves it with either an ace or unreturned serve. It doesn't surprise me that the fist set goes to a tie break and the tie break follows a close pattern to the first set. We both hold our serves and it reaches 5-5 with Finnick serving to set up a set point.

I shake my head as he collects balls to serve with. I know I need to do more on his serve. I've spent so much time focusing on my own serve that I'm not making much impact on his. When his first serve is called out I make a decision. I'm going to go big. This set is tight and I don't want it to be decided on a mistake. I narrow my eyes in determination as Finnick throws up the ball to serve. I set off earlier that I would normally and thankfully Finnick's serve isn't that accurate. It hits the middle of the service box and with not a lot of pace. I pull my arm back and pummel the ball cross court. Finnick is too slow to react and the ball whizzes off the court.

There is a large roar from the crowd and I fist pump once again. Finnick shakes his head in frustration and I turn to the ball boy to ask for some balls. One more point and I win this first set.

I don't let Finnick rest for long before I serve. Finnick gets the ball back but my serve has taken him out the court and it's an easy put away for me. Another roar of the crowd and they are on their feet as I take the first set.

I let the triumph of the first set linger too long at the start of the second and Finnick breaks me in my first service game. That quickly refocuses my attention and although I don't break him in the next game I take him to deuce and that gives me the confidence to break him back. But I have to wait for the sixth game to finally break back in a game that lasts almost fifteen minutes.

The crowd is getting louder and I can almost feel the victory now. I can sense Finnick getting tired and his shots aren't hitting the lines as much as they did at the start of the match. I on the other hand seem to be getting to everything in plenty of time which makes it easier for me to choose the correct shots.

I channel the energy I'm getting from the crowd to block out the weariness that is setting into my own body. Every cheer in delight or groan in frustration spurs me on and I vow to put an end to Finnick's challenge.

I hold my serve and then break Finnick again meaning I am four points away from victory.

Another big roar from the crowd but I don't have time to savour the feeling. The umpire is already calling me to serve and the crowd suddenly fall deadly silent as they wait to see if I can do it. I take a deep breath as I ask for a ball from the ball boy and then turn ready to face Finnick. I throw the ball in the air and vow to finish this game as Wimbledon champion.

First point and Finnick returns my serve into to the net.

15-0. 3 points to go.

Second point. Finnick returns it and we get into a rally but I try to go too big too soon and my ball flies widely out.

15-15. Don't panic. I still need 3 points to win.

Third point. An ace!

30-15. Only two more now!

Fourth point. I hit a clean serve but Finnick gets it back quickly. I rush to reach it and only just manage to get it. I lob it high in the air and Finnick should have an easy smash. But he takes his eye off the ball at the last minute and smashes the ball into the net.

40-15! Match point!

It takes a while for the crowd to go silent and I try to take deep even breaths as I wait. Eventually hush falls around the stadium again and I pause just a moment before throwing the ball in the air.

My first serves goes into the net but I get my second one in. I hit a good second shot but Finnick winds his arm back and powers a ball down the line. I swear under my breath as I watch the ball bounce past me.

40-30. It's not a big deal I try to tell myself. I still have match point. I can still win this.

Another deep breath. Another big serve. But Finnick gets it back. Another long rally. 5 shots. 10 shots. Both of us are cagey not wanting to try anything too soon. And then finally I see an opening. Finnick has dropped back quite far so instead of hitting the ball back hard I dink the ball over instead for a drop shot. Finnick races as hard as he can to reach the ball but it trickles to a stop just as he reaches it.

"Game, set, match, Peeta Mellark!" the umpire calls.

The crowd erupts and I throw my racquet up on the air in celebration. I then punch both hands in the air as I let the feeling of victory wash over me.

Finnick hangs his head in defeat and I almost wish I didn't have to beat my friend. I wheel to the net and reach over it to give him a hug. Finnick wraps his arms around me too to squeeze me tight.

"Congratulations. You deserved this today," he says.

"I'm not going to forget this day," I reply.

Finnick nods his head as we pull apart and then smiles as he raises my arm in the air so I can share my victory with the crowd. They haven't stopped cheering since the end of the match and I can't stop the huge smile that crosses my face.

I quickly look over to my box and Mum is sobbing with happiness into Dad's chest. Cato has joined my brothers in a group hug and the three of them jump up and down like lunatics as they sing a victory song. Katniss just beams at me.

But the surprising sight is Haymitch and Effie locked in a heated embrace and not caring at all that there are cameras around to pick up their make-out session.

By the time I look back they have already started bringing to trophies out. I can't stop looking at the winner's trophy as it is brought out. It might not be the Wimbledon trophy I dreamed of picking up as a kid but it somehow seems more special. It's been harder than I have ever imagined to win this trophy and suddenly all the hard times seem worth it because they have all led me to this moment today.

Eventually a member of the club presents me with the trophy and I grip onto it tightly. I tease the crowd about lifting it before finally lofting it high in the air. I swear my smile must be able to be seen from the moon and in that moment I am the happiest I have ever been.

* * *

It's absolutely crazy once they finally get me off court as dozens of press and media want to speak to me but I have one very important thing to do first.

My family wait for me in the locker room and all jump on me as soon as I enter. I laugh as I share their joy before managing to wriggle away and finding Katniss. She smiles at me with so much pride and love that I can't help but swoop down for a kiss as soon as I see her.

We both continue to smile as we pull back and rest our heads against each other's.

"Congratulations. I'm so proud of you," she says.

"I couldn't have done it without you. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have achieved this today," I reply.

Katniss reaches up to tuck a sweaty curl behind my ear.

"So now you have achieved your ultimate goal, what's next?" she asks.

I grin as I tip her chin up.

"I don't know. I guess I might just have to marry you," I reply.

* * *

 **A/N: And we've reached the end! Thanks for everyone who stuck with Peeta on this long and hard journey but I think he is finally in the best possible place.**

 **Next week will be the epilogue and will be a little glimpse into his and Katniss' future.**


	15. Chapter 15

Epilogue

My five-year-old daughter dances about the field with her two dark braids bouncing along behind her. She then squeals in delight as her cousin starts chasing in a game they have just invented. Madge calls to her son to remind him to stay in sight but that is only a momentary distraction in the game with my daughter. Content that my brother and his wife are keeping an eye on my eldest, I turn my attention to my son.

Katniss carries him as she walks towards me and he studies a flower in his hand carefully. I place a kiss on Katniss' temple before reaching out to tickle underneath my son's chin. He giggles as he brings his big blue eyes up to look at me.

"What have you got there, bug?" I ask him.

My son shoves the fluffy yellow dandelion in my face.

"I found a flower! Mummy said I could pick it," he declares proudly.

"Wow! You found a dandelion. Do you know dandelions have magic powers?" I ask.

His eyes widen in excitement.

"Really?" he asks.

I nod my head.

"Yeah. If you blow on it you can make a wish. And if you're a really good boy your wish will come true," I reply.

My son turns to Katniss.

"You didn't tell me that, Mummy," he says.

Katniss smiles fondly at him as he reaches out to stroke some of his blonde hair.

"I thought you would want to show Daddy what you found before you blew off all the seeds," she says.

He accepts this explanation and the focuses his eyes on the fluffy head of the dandelion.

"I wish for more chocolate cake," he says very seriously.

He then tries to blow off the seed heads. It takes him several blows and probably too much spit before all the seeds have blown away. I look to Katniss with a grin.

"Chocolate cake. There is no doubt he's your son," I say.

"I couldn't think of a better wish," she replies.

We share a grin but our son looks disappointed at the now seedless dandelion.

"Now they are all gone," he says sadly.

Katniss shifts his weight on her hip and leans in closer to him.

"We can get another one. There were loads in that patch we found," she says.

He brightens up at this and nods his head eagerly. He then starts wriggling in Katniss' arms, indicating that he wants to be put down.

"We should show Daddy where they are so he can make a wish too," he says.

Katniss nods her head and turns to me with a smile before our son leads us back to the dandelions.

But in all honesty, I don't need to make any more wishes. I've got everything I could have ever wanted out of life.

When I had my accident I thought my life was over because I couldn't play tennis. Looking back I put way too much emphasis on tennis making me happy. But I now haven't played tennis professionally for three years and I find I don't miss it. After our son was born I made the decision to retire from professional wheelchair tennis. I was still physically fit enough to play and I was competing at a high level but I hated how much the tour took me away from my young family. After my children were born I was no longer happiest when I was playing tennis. I was happiest when I was with them.

I'm still involved in tennis. Finnick and I set up a wheelchair tennis academy and every year our numbers grow. I also commentate on some of the matches during Wimbledon and the other grand slam tournaments. I wanted to make sure that the support for wheelchair tennis didn't disappear once I stopped playing and I'm happy to see that decent crowds still come to watch the current crop of wheelchair players. By the time I retired I think the most satisfying thing I achieved in my career was not winning Wimbledon for the first time but the legacy I left the wheelchair game.

My son tugs on my hand.

"Daddy, which one do you want to pick?" he asks.

"How about you choose one for me," I suggest.

He nods he head and then scans the dandelions seriously, searching for the most suitable one. Eventually he settles on one of the fluffier ones and bends down to tug it out the ground. He then spins round to hand one to me.

"Make a wish, Daddy," he says.

I smile broadly as I bend down so I am level with him. I then close my eyes and blow.

* * *

 **A/N: And we've finally reached the end. Thank you to everyone who followed/favorited/reviewed this story. It was definitely one of the more rockier journeys for Peeta.**


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